Without Purpose
by coffup
Summary: [KakaOC] For sixteen years I was trained to kill. Now I've been put under the care of Hatake Kakashi, someone who doesn't understand my purpose: to serve him. With him, I am without purpose without him, I am lost.
1. Chapter One

Okay! Here I am with my first ever Naruto fanfiction! Oh yeah, I rock! I know what's going to happen in the next two chapters I've planned ahead, boo yeah! and so I probably won't take VERY long to update. I might take very long to update, but not VERY long. . I'm so mean.

Anywho, this story is about a girl and Kakashi. Oooh, I wonder who the girl is! . You can pretend it's you if you really want... -drool- Hell, I want to pretend it's me. . I'm such a sick pervert. BOO YEAH! Sick perverts UNITE! We shall build an empire I tell you! An empire of sick, perverty goodness! SICK—

**Bob:** Hi... I'm Nisha's muse. Nisha can't continue her... talking right now because she's... busy. I had nothing to do with it. Go read the story. You know you want to. . -in the distance you hear Nisha screaming something about perverts-

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Initial Beginning

"..." Speech

_Italics_ Thoughts

**_Italicized Bold_** Inner Self

shmoo... die by my hand oh evil cooked cauliflower! A/N's

_Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, Uh... Naruto. -cough- I meant to say that. _

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**Without Purpose**

**Chapter One**

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_I dream of rain  
I dream of gardens in the desert sand  
I wake in pain  
I dream of love as time runs through my hand _

I dream of fire  
These dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire

_Sting; Desert Rose _

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I lay quietly on the bed, breathing slowly, evenly.

I pause to think: _Am I going to do it tonight?_

I'm lying on my side with my legs curled up beneath me on a very firm mattress, a very, very, VERY firm mattress. My mast—_husband_ won't sleep on soft mattresses, he says that they ruin your spine. He's lying next to me. Breathing in and out... in and out. I can hear him. I can tell if he's faking or not; he's not. I almost smile, almost but not quite. I'm still not too good at showing emotions on my face. It's so hard to go against a sixteen-year-old habit.

I shiver, but it's not because I'm cold; the room is warm, and even though I don't have any blanket (my mas—_husband_ is using it all, I expect it's just laced around his legs) and even though my nightgown is _tiny,_ I'm not cold. I shiver just to double check if he's sleeping or not; he's not.

I'm wearing a nightgown... a nightgown! I don't really like nightgowns. It's actually pretty nice. It only goes down to mid-thigh and that kind of annoys me. It's pink... that kind of annoys me too, but my mast—_husband_ says that it looks nice, so I wear it. I like making my m—_husband_ happy.

_Husband_. The word rolls about my mouth and never comes out. It spins around in my mind, enters my mouth, and never leaves. I have yet to call my husband just what he is to me out loud. Never once have the words "_husband_" graced the air about my lips and swung past his ears, or anyone else's ears for that matter. In the few introductions I've gone through, it has always been, "_That's my... my-_" and then I break off and look embarrassed. I guess I kind of _am_ embarrassed. Just what I'm embarrassed about is beyond me. The person I'm talking to either gets the idea or gives different questions to me. Usually they ask, "Your fiancé or your husband?" and then I nod, saying, "The second." But sometimes he's there behind me with his hand on my shoulder and he says it for me: "_I'm her husband_."

_Always, I speak in my head but never out loud; _another habit that's I got after sixteen years of hard work. Five years is not a lot of time to break a habit that stood strong for sixteen years of my life... not a lot of time at all.

I finger the spaghetti straps of my nightgown. They're edged in lace. The entire nightgown is a slip of pink silk edged in white lace, and not that crappy low-grade stuff; my nightgown is made of the finest materials. It also smells like green tea. I don't like green tea.

Oi... It's time to do this. I reach my arm out and put my hand between the mattresses. My hand grabs hold of a shuriken; nope, that's not what I want. I dig in further and my hand closes around the handle of a knife. Oh yeah... this is what I want; a long, beautiful, deadly dagger. I pull out the dagger and hold it in my right hand.

I know what it looks like; I've spent so much time staring at it that I've memorized its look, its feel. The handle is stunning, as is the blade. It's a gorgeous weapon, commissioned for me, for my own use, by my ma—_husband_. The blade is pure steel... okay, not pure steel. There's gold and silver filigree in it; they've been worked into it in simply extravagant curls and waves. I don't know how anyone could have made a blade of steel with silver filigree... I didn't know that it would stand out. I mean, silver and steel are the _same_ colour. The handle is black, so black that I don't know what it's made of. I think it might be a rock, a shiny igneous rock. It shines wherever it is, even in the dark, which is kind of weird. I like the way it feels in my hand: slick, smooth, hard, and strong. It's a beautiful thing, really. A beautiful thing used to kill other things.

_Rats... this is hard_.

I sit up, aware of what I am doing. I pull back the layers of thick draperies surrounding the bed. In case you haven't noticed, this is a canopy bed. The draperies are a rich, dark reddish maroon and are smothered in gold tassels and woven through with golden thread.

The bed and myself, those are the few things that my mas—_husband_ spends excess amounts of money on. The bed and I are the only things that he really... that he really... likes. The bed is mahogany, made of the oldest, strongest trees from a forest far away, located by the edge of the earth. Okay, so it's not _that_ far away and maybe the earth doesn't have an edge, but you get what I mean. The bed's curtains are a deep crimson red, but you can't see that from the outside. On the outside, all you see are thick white curtains, embossed with gold designs. It looks like a white bed, but once you open the curtains, you realize that there are two layers of drapes; one light and one dark. He didn't need to do that... but he did... He buys me things that I don't really want or need, too, but I use them anyways, just to make him happy. Like this nightgown, I'm sure it cost a fortune but I would have been just as happy, if not more, in an old oversized t-shirt and shorts.

_**Or, better yet, an old t-shirt of **his** and a pair of **his** shorts!**_

_Ehehehe... yeah... _

_**Or even better! You could just wear–**_

_AH! Shut up! This is not the time to be dirty!_

Uh... yeah... I talk to myself. Don't deny it, you know you do it too. I just like having a second opinion for myself. One would think that at twenty-one that little voice would die down, right? Well... one thinks wrong.

Anywho... clothes! He buys me tons of them! There are all of those gowns he keeps getting sent in. I have at least a bazillion and how many suits does he have? How many? Two. **TWO!** If he can survive on two suits, why can't I survive on two dresses? Gah... My old masters never used to buy me so much stuff. I had two sets of clothing. One to wear for one week while the other was washed. If I ever needed "nice" clothes, like ball gowns, or kimonos, or anything like that, I'd be given it. I just never got to keep them. I did, however, get to keep my store of makeup and my equally loved arsenal of deadly weapons. Those I got to keep in a backpack in my room until I needed them.

I step up and out of the bed and walk through the curtains. I shut them behind me and look around the room. There is a balcony situated a few paces ahead of me. Thin white curtains with gold thread running through them usually hide it from view, but tonight I had made sure to leave them apart so that I wouldn't make any noise getting out. They were pulled to the side by golden ribbons.

Balconies...I love them and I hate them. I hate them because they allow in the noise from the streets below; they allow in burglars; they make the house seem weak; they let birds the right to poop on the floor I might walk on. I love them because they let in the sounds of nature; they allow in sunlight; they give me a place to sit and contemplate random things; they allow moonlight to stream into the room. And that's what's happening right now...

Moonlight hits the floor in breathtaking patterns, obscured only by the panes of glass in the balcony doors. Sometime I wish we could just keep the doors wide open and let the moonlight slide in, but that's a silly idea. What if something, or someone else slid in along with the moonlight? That wouldn't be very nice.

I've always wondered if moonlight had a special property in it; I think it does have one. I'm not sure what it could be, but it's soothing to some and harmful to others. I stretch my arm out and let the moonbeams hit my skin. I like the way my skin looks like in the moonlight. It's so... I don't know.

I take a glance around; I want to see what else the light of the moon illuminates with its ghostly splendour. The moonlight illuminates a stack of papers on a desk. A pen sits upon the stack, holding them in place. I have to write on those before I go. _Thank you for reminding me, Mr. Moonlight._ I bow my head in silent thanks to the moon for a minute.

I take a deep, shuddering breath and begin to circle the bed, allowing my hand to run across the curtains and watch as they ripple beneath my touch.

_Ooh... ripple, ripple._

I'm captivated by things that move and more than just a little wary about them. Call it a reflex, call it stupidity, call it instinct, call it whatever you want, but my wariness for things that move has saved my life and others' many times. Of course, I don't really care about the movement that I'm making as I run my hand across the curtains, but it does catch my attention for a while. The drapes are so soft and white and flow under my hand like water.

I can hear my feet _thud_ gently on the carpet that the bed rests on. It's soft, fuzzy, and consists of a lot of weird looking dark red and deep green circles. It compliments the bed very well and stands out well against the light wooden floor.

I reach the other side of the bed and open the drapes. I step inside and shut the drapes behind me, trying to block out any light. Then I realize that I didn't fully close the drapes on my side of the bed. There's a slant of moonlight flowing in through the gap in the curtains. It falls over my mas—_husband_ and lights up his face for me.

_Rats..._

Oh well, it's probably better this way. I can see him... I didn't want to, but I now I have to.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and put my dagger on the floor. I lean over my husband and watch him sleep. The blanket, as I suspected, is wrapped around his legs and doesn't cover his chest. It's a nice blanket and it matches the colours of the drapes and sheets. The sheets and comforter (and pillows for that matter) are all either a deep maroon red or a dark forest green. It's all very rich and soothing and heavy and opulent. My mas—_husband, (HUSBAND)_ chose them. I didn't know he had it in him... They're all really soft too, which is nice.

I smile down at the blanket twisted up in his legs.

_Stupid loser..._

I like my husband, really, I do. It's just that sometimes he's such a monkey fart. I smile; only I could think such words at my age. I'm old; well, not that old. I'm only twenty-one. My husband isfourteen years older than me. But he's not a pedophile, I promise. He may be a pervert, but he's not a pedophile. I married him because... I had a choice. I don't like choices. I really, really, don't like choices. I mean, I _REALLY _don't like choices

_I hope I made the right choice... _

I haven't really grown up in the five years since I've met him. I mean, I've grown taller and stuff, but okay, let me rephrase this. I've grown in so many ways, but my mind still thinks like a child sometimes, a very overgrown and developed child with destructive powers and an intense knowledge in the art of seduction, but a child, nonetheless. When I'm mad, I call people weird things... like hot dog head and monkey butt and...

I trail off as he takes a deep breath while he sleeps. I watch his chest rise and fall. There's a chain around his neck, a silver chain with a small silver rectangle hanging from it, kind of like a dog tag. He never takes it off... even when he's sleeping. You can't notice it when he's awake; it's always tucked under his clothes. I don't really care if it has anything written on it, or rather, engraved upon it.

_What a loser..._

I place a hand on his chest. He's warm; he's always warm, even in the rain...

I run my hand through his hair, lightly; I don't want him to wake up, I just want to remember him. I contemplate pulling out one of his hairs to remember him by and decide not to; not only is it a messed up idea, but he'd wake up for sure if I did. His hair is grey and silver and white; there is not a strand of black in his hair. But his hair didn't change colour recently; his hair was like this when I first saw him... five years ago. It still sticks out over his left shoulder. It's weird, I thought that it would go away when he slept, but it doesn't, it just kind of... sticks there. I think it's kind of cute.

_**No, you think it's SEXY! Damn sexy!**_

_EEEEeh... go away! I'm TRYING to have a moment here! This is going to be the last—the last time I ever..._

I break off and my inner self tries to calm me down.

_**I know... sorry... Just trying to—**_

_Lighten the mood... I know... I know... _

I know.

I know that this is going to be the last time I see him alive. This is the last time I get to see my beautiful saviour... master... lover... caretaker... _husband_... alive. He's these things and more to me. He is my salvation and my curse. It's not his fault this is going to happen, it's mine; I am a weak person unable to follow his orders, his orders that go against everything that I stand for and everything that I believe in... his orders to be free.

_Damn... I didn't know it was going to be this hard. _

**_Crud bucket..._ **

I let my hand trace over the scar on his left eyelid. It runs vertically from his eyebrow to the upper part of his cheek. It's thin and red and sometimes I wish I could wipe it away for him but I know that I can't. My hand trails over his forehead from left to right. I sigh. This is _hard._ I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

_Damn you, you dirty hot dog! How dare you make me feel things for you and your sorry ass!_

I have a weird way of showing my affection for others. I like to insult the people that I like. Maybe I think that it'll make me stop liking them. I don't know. I don't know a lot of things.

I take a deep breath and shut my eyes. I open them and his mask is still in place. Did I tell you that he wears a mask? Well... he does. It covers the entire bottom half of his face. You can't even see his nose. Everything from below his eyes and the beginning of his nose to the area under his chin is covered. I never wanted to see under it; if he wanted to show me, he could have... but I guess he never did want to. I'm kind of glad he hasn't tried to show me actually. If I knew what was under it... I'd probably be disappointed; he's perfect in my eyes. Hell, in my eyes he's a god. He has... friends, if you can call them that, that always try to sneak a peek under his mask every once in a while when they get bored. I don't think anyone has ever seen under his mask. I wonder if he remembers what's under his mask. I don't want to see under his mask; I like him just the way he is.

I want to remember him just the way I see him now... with his eyes closed, peaceful, breathing lightly, his mask in place. I tug the edges with both of my hands, making sure it's secure on his face. I kind of like his mask, I think its cu—I'm not going to finish that thought. If I finish that thought, my inner self is going to jump in with a weird comment and ruin the mood.

I put my hands on the mattress, on either side of his face. Thank god for firm mattresses, if this had been a soft mattress, he would have woken up 'cause the weight I'm putting on my hands would have made his head sink down into the mattress. I smile ruefully. Slowly, I lower my head to his, eventually placing my forehead to his forehead, my nose to his nose. I stay like this for a while; I want to remember him, I really, really do want to remember him. I wonder if he will remember me. I shift a bit and kiss his lips through his mask.

_Uh oh... _I feel tears coming out. _Uh oh..._ I open my eyes and they fall to his eyelids. I freeze. _Dirty crap-olla..._ I watch as he continues to breath lightly, not noticing the tears on his face; the tears that aren't his tears but leak to the corners of his eyes and trail down the sides of his face as if they were his own. The tears that... I cry for him and for me. He doesn't notice them at all. He can be such a dunce sometimes.

I breathe a sigh of relief and shut my eyes. I tried to do this a few days ago. I tried to do it and when I kissed him, he woke up.

_**Groar, that was so **not** fun.**_

He woke up and looked at me weird. I'm not sure how to describe it. It was like a 'What the hell do you think you're doing?' look and it made me blush. Then again, it could have been a 'Tehe, what _are_ you doing?' look, but I don't know. It's kind of hard to tell what someone's look looks like when half their face is covered with a dark blue mask.

And I don't blame him for giving me that look. I mean, there I was, **straddling** him, giving him a kiss in the **dead of the night** with my hands on either side of his face, while he was **ASLEEP**!

_Ack! I looked like a whore or worse, a rapist!_

Well... technically, I can't be classified as a whore 'cause we're husband and wife, and so, if I did kiss him, well it was okay. And besides, you're not a whore if you kiss someone. But I wasn't really thinking then, so the first thought that ran through my mind was that he was going to call me a whore and divorce me and then things would really start to get bad.

But all he did was raise an eyebrow at me.

_Ehehehe... Uh..._

And then he pushed a stray strand of hair away from my flushing face. I didn't know my face could still blush, I thought that I pushed that reaction down a long time ago; apparently, I hadn't. Ah, the things you learn in the middle of the night with your mas—_husband._

I was about to say something, probably something incoherent and along the lines of: "Uh..." but I wasn't given a chance to make a bigger fool of myself. Instead he did something that kind of made me freak out a bit. He kind of sat up; threw his arms around me; flipped me sideways so that I was lying on the bed next to him, facing his chest; and then he hugged me while he fell back asleep.

You know how people wrap their arms and legs around things while they sleep? Well, that's what he was doing to me. And all I could do was blush and feel stupid while staring at his chest until I fell asleep.

I felt like a giant teddy bear; a giant, flushed, embarrassed, loser of a teddy bear.

Of course, at that time, the knife was still on the rug and I was trying to figure out what to do about it and what to say when he asked me about it. I couldn't lie about it; I never lie to him, ever. But, he didn't say anything about it the next day and I didn't say anything either, even when I found the knife lying on my side of the bed when I went to sleep the next day. I wonder if he knew what I was trying to do.

Mm... Memories. I snap out of my reverie and wipe my tears away from his eyes. I kiss him again, on his forehead though.

_Eh... This is hard..._

I can't stress that enough times.

_**This is SO hard.**_

I get off the bed and stand up. I bend over to get my knife. Then I duck down when something comes flying over the side of the bed.

_OH HOLY MACKEREL **MOTHERFUCKER! BITCH, WHORE, SKANK! **OF DOOM!_

I knew it! I knew I couldn't do it! I knew someone was going to find me out and throw a shuriken at my head! I rolled over onto my back so that I could throw my knife out. And then I realized that it was justmy mas—_husband's_ arm that had come flying out at me so that it could hang over the edge of the bed.

_EEEEeeeeeeeeehhhhhhh..._

..._**Uh... **_

Aha... so my inner self knows when to shut up...

Still on my stomach, I crane my neck up, tilt my head, and kiss one of his fingers.

_What a loser... what a big fat shit-inky loser_.

I roll up the draperies at the side of the bed and slide beneath them. I stand on the other side of the drapes and tilt my head; I can still see through the gap in the drapes.

Holding my dagger in one hand, I speak softly, softly, under my breath, so quiet that I doubt that even a butterfly could have felt the air slipping past my lips. I curl my tongue around the words as they slip out of my mouth. I hope I can do it... I should be able to do it, there's no one here to hear me.

"Good-bye..."

_I'm going to say it... I'm going to say it... I'm going to say it... My husband. C'mon, say it!_

_**Yeah! Say it! It's two bloody words! Three bloody syllables!**_

I shut the drapes and my heart is beating so hard, so very, very hard.

_I didn't say it._

My face falls. My heart beats erratically. I feel like I've just run a marathon or something.

_I can't say it... I won't say it! I want to, oh, I really, really want to say it... but I can't. I just can't! _

_**Damn it...**_

I patter around the bed, clutching the dagger between my breasts, trying to still my beating heart. Still breathing hard, I shut the curtains on my side of the bed. I take a deep, shuddery breath.

_Damn it..._

_**You can't even do it while he's SLEEPING? There's no one bloody—**_

_There! I KNOW... I know... _

My eyes sting with unshed tears. Don't you hate those? Those nasty unshed tears that you try to force back... those suck. They're lazy butt monkeys if you ask me. But you didn't.

I tread softly over the white rug, forcing down a hiccup. The rug reminds me so much about clouds, about cotton, about sheep... I walk off of it and tread carefully over the tan floor. I grab the stack of papers from the desk and the pen as well and make my way to the balcony doors.

The balcony doors are double doors, French doors, I guess is the right name for them. They're pretty... They're not really doors, though... just windows stuck in doorframes.

When I told my mas—_husband_ what I thought about the doors, he snorted. I didn't know that he could snort. I thought he was above that kind of stuff. Then again, he reads that porn manga, what's it called? Oh yeah, Icha Icha Paradise... or something like that. That's strange; I haven't seen him with it lately... not ever since we got married... odd. I wonder where he hid them. What a loser, hiding his love for porn from me. Meh, it's not like we're _really_ husband and wife... I mean, we **are** married; we just haven't... had sex yet. We've been married for about a year now and we haven't had sex...

_**Don't think about that.**_

_Good idea._

I open one of the French doors and slip outside.

**_EEEeee... It's COLD._ **

Well... I'm not sure what I'd been expecting, I mean... it _is_ the middle of the night and I _am_ wearing a teensy, tiny nightgown. I place the stack of papers on the floor and place the pen on top... I hope it's heavy enough to act as a paperweight. Oh, wait; I have my blade in my hand. Ah ha... I could use that as a paperweight. I place the dagger next to the pen and hope it will stay down.

In my mind... I think that a short sword is mightier than an ink-spewing pen. I mean... in a time of danger... would you grab the pen or the knife? The knife, duh! Unless if you had some weird, killer **Ink-no-jutsu** that blasts enemies with ink straight into their eyes and spews down their throats so that they die by chemical indigestion. Now that would be a cool jutsu... I wonder if it's possible.

The tiles are cool beneath my feet as I walk around, pacing in unnatural shapes. Tiles... red tiles, bright red tiles with grey grout holding them down. I squat and press a finger to one of the tiles. I feel old and dull... the opposite of these new, shiny tiles. I sometimes think that I am a tile... that I am a tile and that I have grout holding me down. Three times in my life, the grout has been taken away from me, once from my birth mother to Master who was later named Old Master and now holds the name of Oldest Master... once from Oldest Master to New Master who now holds the name of Old Master... once from Old Master to my mas—_husband_.

I wish... I hope I can break away from the grout that holds me to my new master—_husband, husband_.

_Husband, woman... HUSBAND... _

_**HUSBAND! He's called your... husband...**_

I make my way over to the railing and sit down. The railing is far enough off the ground that I can shove my legs between the bottom of it and the ground. My ass is cold, that stupid nightgown rode up when I squished myself between the railing and the tiles. The bars are wide enough so that I can place my head through them, but not so much that my shoulders will slide through them as well. I press against the cool, metal bars and wonder briefly if they can support my weight. I hope they can, or else I will be stripped from my grout and shattered into a bloody pulp at the bottom of a two-story drop; or I could just end up with a broken leg or two.

The moonlight beams over my legs as I swing them to and fro. The ground below is dark, unknown to me in this lack of light. I think I know what's down there... I'm just not very sure. It's too dark to see... it's too dark to see anything down there. I know what's down there in general... there's a pool. What it looks like, how deep it is, that I can't remember, and it's too dark to see. I wish I had more light... no, no I don't wish for more light. I stare down into the bleakness... deep into the bleak darkness of which I have only a bare knowledge of. It reminds me a lot about myself and the rest of my life... I know that there's going to be... living... but that's pretty much all I know about it.

I push myself into the cool metal bars and shut my eyes. I let my mind drift back... back to the first memory I have of my mast—_husband_... well... almost the first...

I shut my eyes...

_I am not asleep... _

_I am not asleep... _

_I am awake... _

_I am awake... _

_I... _

_

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I awake to an unfamiliar setting; oddly enough, I'm not really surprised. The first thing that my eyes catch sight of is the ceiling; it isn't vaulted, there isn't any extravagant trim, and there are no ornate mouldings reflecting the vast opulence of the rest of the room. It's just a boring, whitewashed, lump-speckled, stucco ceiling, which probably reflects the lack of material prosperity in the rest of the room.

The room is not entirely dark; it's just... kind of dark. I don't know how to explain. There is some light coming in from the crack around the door and that kind of illuminates the ceiling a bit.

I shut my eyes; I shouldn't have opened them in the first place. That small mistake may cost me my life. Oh, oh, oh... why does this strange setting not surprise me? _There must be some reason..._ a reason that eludes me at the moment. I don't doubt that the reason will pop into my brain sooner or later. It will; there's no reason for it not too.

_**Not unless if you don't want to remember.** _

_What is that supposed to mean? _

_**What do you **think** it's supposed to mean?** _

_Shut up. _

There is no time for theatrics with my mind. Since my eyes aren't what I should be using right now, I decide to use my other senses to check out the room. They aren't exactly up to par at the moment, I can tell that in an instant and that doesn't surprise me either. I don't think that using my chakra to search for me is going to be a good idea; what if somebody nearby feels it and attacks?

_**Or worse, what if it doesn't work at—**_

_I thought I told you to shut up._

I force the voice down and use my sense of touch to feel around me. I'm in a bed, there's no one else in it; there is no odd tilt in the mattress nor is there the sound of anyone else breathing beside me.

Ew... talking about mattresses... I am definitely _not_ in my master's house. The mattress I'm lying on is as hard as a rock and rather uncomfortable. I don't really care; I've slept in worse places, including stalagmite/stalactite covered caves. My master would never allow such a mattress into his house. My master's voice rang out in my mind for a second, "_If you wish to have a firm mattress, sleep on the floor. Hard beds are for health nuts and old men who think they can keep their sagging spines straight by lying on hard surfaces. You will never find one anywhere on my property."_

The hardness of the mattress is contrasted sharply by the softness of the sheets and comforter. The thread count isn't as high as in New Master's house (which is a luxurious 210); that I can tell, I learned how to tell sometime in the first eight years of my life; it's a useful talent sometimes. The thread count on these sheets is not as high as Master's; it's a regular 180 thread count. The comforter is cool, and full of down and cotton. It's good quality stuff, not the best, but good quality. That says something about the person who owns this house, or hotel, or wherever the hell I am right now. They aren't stingy. They know comfort but don't go over the top like Master sometimes does.

My sense of smell decides to kick in right about now, right when the smell of tea wafts into the room. It was cinnamon tea, not green, but cinnamon.

_Oooh... cinnamon-y goodness..._

I go as far as to wonder if it was for me and then chide myself quickly for holding such hopeful thoughts.

_I should be happy that I got the chance to smell it_.

_**Count your blessings and all that other shit, eh?**_

_Gees, you just don't know when to shut up do you?_

_**Well, come to think of it... No, not—**_

_Shut up._

The faint smell of whiskey hits my sensitive nostrils.

_Odd._

I wonder if the tea really is for me. If anyone's going to try to intoxicate me, he or she is going to be in for a big surprise. Alcohol doesn't affect me the way that it should; high metabolism or liver sponges or advanced bloodline or something. I stumbled across this little quirk about my body during a drinking contest with the rest of Master's people. I had drunk and drunk and then drunk some more. Even after the other drinkers had passed out cold, I had kept on drinking... and drinking...

* * *

"Whooooooooooooooa..." Gargled a tiny girl at about the age of nine. Oh, that's me. I'm tiny... At only one year under New Master's role, I'm the youngest one there in Master years. Oh yeah, I got under New Master's role when I was eight. Old Master had been training me to be a seductress/assassin. Now I'm training to be just an assassin, even though my seductress skills are still being played upon. Even after a year with New Master, I still feel obligated to call him New Master.

A pointy-eared male shoves another drink at me, forcing me out of my thoughts. "Drink it," he said, giving me a funny look.

So I drink it. And then I drink another, and another, and another... and watched as everyone else around the table passed out. Slowly, one by one, their heads fall to the table and their eyes roll to me before they roll up into their heads.

**_Gees... they're all really fat..._ **

I look down at myself; whoa, am I skinny, or what?

I giggle. The people who stand to watch us are quiet. I wonder why they're so quiet.

"Wire you so KWEET?" I ask, unable to form the proper facial movements to get my words across. Uh oh... something was wrong.

_Oh dear...Why are my words coming out so wrong and slurred? _

_**Oh dear is right! What the fuck did you do?**_

_I don't know! Why can't I talk properly? _

_**Beats me! Quick, ask for help or something!**_

_No way! I don't want to look like baby! That's the whole reason that I got in this competition-y thing!_

I swing my head to one of the janitors who is acting as our barkeep. He keeps taking my mug (a shiny little thing with a puppy dogs emblazoned around it... I'm rather partial to it), dunking it in the whiskey barrel and putting it back in front of me. I pick it up, pull it to my mouth and swallow. Amazingly, even though my lips can't really make proper words, they are able to hold onto the edge of my favourite mug and keep the keep the whiskey from spilling onto me.

My motor skills are quickly leaving me. People start to chant behind me, "Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!" There is no pounding in my skull, no gut wrenching want to barf, nothing. I feel absolutely normal except for the fact that I'm slowly losing my motor skills and any control over my body.

The barkeep/janitor keeps looking at me incredulously and I **greatly** want to smack his face in for staring at me like that.

_What the hell is eating him?_ Oooh, I know, pretty mean words for a nine-year-old, but I learned these words under the care of Old Master, and I'd learned even worse when I was three.

_**I know what you mean... hasn't he seen a girl drink whiskey before?**_

_I know! Who cares if this is my first time! I've seen girls do this all the time! What a loser!_

_**Quick, punch him!**_

_Uh... no... I'll be nice... I'll just say something mean to him. I don't want to get in trouble._

Right before I tell that guy just where he can and should stick it, he speaks out loud, almost wondrously. "Where do you put it?" he asks.

"Put what?" I ask back, or at least, try to ask. It comes out more like, "Oo—waa?" Oh crud, it's getting hard to keep my arms steady. I hear the crowd still and become quiet; I wonder what's going on. Why have they stopped chanting? I take a gulp from my mug and a little bit of whiskey leaks down my chin.

My mug is smacked out of my hand and someone grabs me from under my chin, forcing me to face him or her.

_My mug! Oh my beautiful mug!_ My mug (_my beautiful, beautiful mug!) _went **CRACK **onto the ground and shattered, undoubtedly.

Outraged, I am SO ready to smack the stupid loser in front of me with a chakra blast, but I realize quickly that it just isn't any old loser who just grabbed me, in fact, the person who's holding me is the farthest thing from a loser that can be; it's New Master.

I almost smile up at him, almost but not quite. It was a thing that I learned in the first few years of my training: Never show emotions on your face... Ever. It's wrong and punishable. I try not to, really, I do, but I haven't seen New Master in _so_ long, and here he is, and he can see me winning!

_Boo yeah!_

I try to give him a half smile and end up pulling up only a corner of my mouth. To New Master, I now suspect that I looked like I was going to burp or barf or worse, do both at the same time. But to me, I thought that I was smiling. Oooo, what a loss of motor controls can do to a face.

_Oh yeah, New Master's here to see me drink! TWEET!_

_**Or he could be here to smack you with a pointy stick!**_

_True! But either way, it's all good!_

And it is all good. Whatever New Master does is good. Every word from his mouth is the word of angels and he himself is a god walking upon this earth. He is kind and generous and takes such good care of me. He is a wonderful man. Wonderful, wonderful, and bloody fanfuckingtastical. My master stares deep into my eyes; I wonder what the bloody hell he's doing. I wonder if I smell. New Master doesn't like icky smells. New Master also hates green tea. I don't like green tea either. Green tea sucks.

He speaks to me, "Blink three times, very quickly, if you can hear me."

I blink three times, very quickly. I wonder what's going on.

New Master lets me go and my chin hits the table, hard. I don't think that anything broke, however. I listen carefully to what New Master is saying to the janitor/barkeep. I wonder how long the janitor/barkeep has been working for New Master. Not that long... he doesn't look that old, only about twenty or so, but I know that he hasn't been working here for more than two years. His age in New Master years is about two.

The janitor/barkeep's head is bowed in humility to New Master. New Master grabs the janitor/barkeep by his hair; his long, red, shiny hair. He has pretty hair... The janitor/barkeep is very proud of his hair. I know that he should have cut it off when he came under New Master's power; long hair isn't a good thing to have in a place like this. I finger the small brown leather bracelet that adorns my left wrist; unless, of course, if you have New Master's protection. The thin, brown ring about my wrist shows that New Master favours me and that if you try to be mean to me... he'll kick your ass and he'll kick it hella good! Well... his bodyguards would.

"How many drinks did she have?" asks New Master, his voice sinisterly cold.

_Hoo boy... Is he talking about me? _

_**Probably... note the fact that you're the only girl around this table.**_

_True... I wonder why he's here though... _

_**Perhaps it has something to do with our lack of motor skills?**_

_Perhaps it does... _

"Forty-seven Master-sama," quivers out the young janitor/barkeep's voice.

"Forty-seven?"

"Hai, Master-sama."

"You let a nine-year-old drink forty-seven mugs of whiskey?"

"Hai, Master-sama."

New Master waves his arm around, gesturing to the twelve men who are gathered around the table with me. "How many did it take for the best to go down?"

"The best took seventeen before barfing it all up and passing out cold. The girl is the best now, Master-sama."

New Master nods; nods and then slams the janitor/barkeep's face straight into the table. **KER-SPLUNCH **That's the noise somebody's nose makes when it's squished against a wooden table and it breaks; the nose that is.

Blood oozes out across the table and started to leak towards me. I don't really care. It could have been water for all I care; there is no way in hell that I'm going to move without New Master's permission, besides the blood doesn't really bother me that much anyway. Nobody else around us really cares either; all of their heads are bowed down in a show of humility to New Master.

New Master turns to look at the rest of his people surrounding our little table of drinkers. "You let a nine-year-old drink forty-seven mugs of whiskey when the best lost consciousness after seventeen? Lost consciousness and vomited his innards out?"

"Hai, Master-sama," comes their unanimous reply. Immediately afterwards you can hear everyone breathing. It's kind of creepy 'cause they're all breathing in unison. I'm the only one messing it up, breathing when they're exhaling, exhaling when they're breathing.

_**Oh yeah! Screw some of them over! Mwahahahah!**_

New Master motions to one of the many bodyguards that always surround him. Everyone hears him say "To the Dark Rooms" and I know immediately that everyone is scared as hell. Even I don't know what goes on in the Dark Rooms, and frankly, I don't want to know. The others have told me some stuff about it and honestly, it's fucking scary what they say.

"—With me. Quickly. Let's get out of here."

Eh? Take who with him? I feel myself getting hoisted out of my seat and then feel someone throw me over his exceptionally large shoulder blade. Uh oh... I guess I'm the unlucky contestant. I wonder if I'm going to a Dark Room. I hope not. I really hope not. But if I do go to one, I don't really care.

I watch the floor change from the tan wood of the servant's quarters to the plush red velour carpet that the rest of New Master's mansion is covered in. Suddenly, I'm flipped into a chair. There are many other chairs in this room; I think I've been here before. The lights are dimmed so I can only see the two seats in front of me. A doctor (I can tell he's a doctor from his squeaky clean white lab coat and his weird, shiny stethoscope hanging around his neck) sits in one and New Master sits in another. The doctor holds a bottle in one hand and a large wooden basin rests in his lap. I wonder what the basin is for.

I lean back into my chair, allowing my back to fill up the contours of the very comfy chair. New Master snaps his fingers lazily in the air ahead of him. The doctor places the basin in my lap. It's huge and goes from one chair arm to the other. I grasp the edges and hold onto them so that it won't slide out of my lap.

_**WOOT! That is one HUGE barf bin!**_

_Barf bin? _

I don't get a chance to think about the basin because New Master makes the doctor sit down. And then he takes the bottle from the doctor's hand and uncorks it. It STINKS. Like... _really, really, really, STINKS_.

_**EW... smells like rotting garbage and bird guts!**_

_No, it smells like green tea!_

_**EW! It smells like rotting garbage and bird guts and poop and green tea!**_

_The worst combination EVER!_

_**Unless if you add—**_

I never get to finish that thought. 'Cause right at that moment, New Master holds the bottle out to me and says, "Drink."

I take one of my hands away from the edge of the basin and grasp the bottle as well as I can. **_Ew..._** It's orange in colour and has an old faded label on it. I don't try to read it though; there is no time. New Master has told me to drink and so, now is the time to drink. I put the bottle to my lips and swallow.

_**Kami-sama! **_

It's like hot oil smearing its way down my throat. I try hard not to sputter and shut my eyes as it screams down my esophagus. It burns like all the seven fires of hell and then some. This liquid has to be the grossest thing I have ever put down my throat. Even worse than that time when I swallowed motor oil. At least that stuff had been cool. This stuff is scorching hot, but the bottle isn't warm. I guess that the stuff itself is really spicy or something like that. I taste... rubber, oil, _green tea_, and an assortment of other stuff that I can't recognize.

_**Can't, or won't? **_

_I don't want to answer that._

I finish it quickly and place my hand and the bottle onto the chair arm. Oh god... something's happening to my stomach. I can taste the liquid still in my mouth. It's thick and creamy and oily all at the same time. I swallow repeatedly; I cannot throw up.

Bile rises in the back of my throat. I force it down. I shut my eyes and breathe deeply, trying to force it down with my breath. The bottle is taken out of my hand. My face starts to go red from the force I'm exerting to keep my bile where it belongs: down inside my stomach, not in my mouth. It's a losing battle. But I won't vomit. Tears build up in my eyes as I try to keep it down. I grip the sides of the bowl as hard as I can, making my knuckles go white.

_I won't, I won't, I won't. I don't have permission to. I'm not going to barf. I'm not going to! I'm NOT!_

"Vomit," says New Master. I stare up at him with glazed eyes. "Into the bowl."

I heed him eagerly and empty the contents of my stomach into the basin in front of me. My vomit splashes in and I make odd choking noises as it spews out. The liquid that oozes out of me burns as much as the liquid I just drank. It takes a minute for the entire contents of my stomach to leave me. By then, I'm just dry heaving and it hurts my throat like a bitch. I'm glad that I wore my hair in a ponytail today, very glad.

I lean over the basin, my eyes shut, spitting out the last remnants of vomit from my mouth. I hate the acidic taste; that horrible lack of control over your body; the way it spews up into your throat. I hate throwing up. But if New Master wants me to throw up, then I will throw up. And I did. Woot, score one for me.

New Master pats the back of my head and I push my head up in happiness.

_**BOO YEAH! Touch! Touch! Touch!**_

I have come to associate good performance with touch. If I do something well... New Master will say something nice, or pat my head. I feel very special when this happens. I suppose he pets many other people, but I only know of one other person who wears brown leather around her wrist and she is old and wrinkly. I don't know if that has anything to do with anything, but someone once told me that it does.

"Good, Pet," he says, still petting my head. I look at my bowl of vomit. It stinks like green tea and that weird smell vomit always gives off; that weird, sour, rotting smell. He called me by my name, my name! I am happy. I don't care about the smell at all.

_Pet, Pet, Pet. Pet is good!_

_**Oh yeah, I am so good! I am the best! Pet gets petted and gets good words!**_

_I am Pet, I am good, I did well and New Master likes me!_

Yes, my name is Pet. Okay, so it isn't. I don't really... have a name. Old Master called me Little Girl, always, Little Girl. I don't know what my birth mother might have called me. I was given to Old Master when I was two days old, apparently. But I don't really care. New Master has taken to calling me Pet. And if he wants to call me Pet, he can call me Pet. Hell, if he wants to call me Arielle The Toad Eating Piglet, he can and I will be happy.

I am devoted to my New Master. He is a kind and wonderful and generous person. It is my honour to be taking care of him. I am training to be his bodyguard and an assassin and a seductress. I was trained for eight years under the rule of Old Master from the time I was two days old till I was eight to be a seductress and an assassin. I've learned a bit, but New Master is constantly getting people to train me. I train hard and for as long as possible. Usually I don't stop until I pass out or until New Master stops me. When I train, I always think about New Master, because it is for New Master that I train. I do everything for New Master and anything that he says to me. If New Master wanted me to kill someone, then I do it and I will die trying to do it if I have to. If New Master told me to kill myself, I would do it too, with no hesitation. Anything from the mouth of New Master is law. I would kill myself to save New Master, and I'd do it with a smile on my face.

The doctor comes by now, and he takes the foul smelling basin away. New Master stops petting me and steps aside as the doctor comes back.

"Raise your head," says New Master. _Tehe, his voice is nice._ "It might hurt, Pet, but do it."

I raise my head, but it doesn't hurt. I don't get it... is it supposed to hurt?

The doctor wipes down my face with a damp towel. Then he makes me lean back into the chair. I shudder slightly; vomiting is not my thing.

"Do you have a headache?" asks the doctor. I stay silent and stare ahead. I have no permission to answer.

"Answer him, Pet."

"No," I reply to the doctor. He smells... like... medicine. Okay, not a good description, but he smells like medicine, really sweet medicine that tries to hide the real taste with sugar but doesn't really manage to do it, so you're stuck with sticky sweet medicine that tastes disgusting; it's an insult to sugar.

The doctor peers into my eyes. "Do you feel dizzy?"

"No."

The doctor looks to New Master. "How many did she drink?" he asks him.

New Master looks from me to the doctor. "The best drank seventeen," he sidesteps the doctor's question. "What will happen to him?"

"Seventeen? Shot of whiskey?" repeats the doctor incredulously.

"Yes," replies New Master. "Seventeen shots of whiskey."

"Alcohol poisoning, no doubt about it. He's going to need to have his stomach pumped. He's going to have a might big hangover when he wakes up." He glances at me and smiles. I don't like his smile. His teeth are too white, too shiny, and too levelled. I think they're kind of too small too. "How many did she drink? Two?"

"Forty-seven. She won the competition."

The doctor smiles and rubs at his ears. "I'm sorry," he says, "But I thought I heard you say that that little girl over there drank forty-seven shots."

"You heard correctly. My Pet drank forty-seven shots of whiskey. Why hasn't she died?"

I listen in on their conversation very carefully. I don't sense anyone else in the room with us. However, New Master's guards are right outside the door.

"You are sure that she had forty-seven shots?" asks the doctor.

"Yes," answers my master. My master's so cool. "Why hasn't she died yet? I thought that a grown man drinking over twenty shots would die. She drank twice that and then some and she's a girl of only nine years."

The doctor wrings his hands and looks at me nervously. Looks at me; me, a girl who is not moving an inch. I know what he's thinking. Any normal kid would have moved by now, any normal kid would have butted into this conversation, any normal child would have been passed out by now, any normal child would have moved something in their body by now, any normal child would rolled their eyeballs by now. I think he's coming to the conclusion that I am not a normal child. Sometimes I like to think of myself as a highly trained miniature soldier.

He looks back to New Master and then to me and then back again to New Master. "She—she might have an advanced bloodline of some sorts."

"Advanced blood line?"

"Yes, they still exist, there are very few, but they still exist. Umm... she may have come from a line of drunkards who built up resistance, one generation at a time. Eventually, if you drink enough and get your children to drink enough and then continue on with this process and add in some magic, you can create an advanced bloodline. It's not unheard of, but very, very rare to see in females. Usually it's found in males."

"I see... so what are the effects of this... advanced bloodline?"

"Well... for one thing, she won't get drunk. Nor will she suffer from hangovers. But if she drinks too much, she will lose her motor skills for a short amount of time and be rendered helpless. She won't be able to do anything. She will be able to think however."

_Ah ha! That explains my lack of mouth movements and weird words._

"How long does it take the alcohol to wear off of her system?"

"About, oh, if you take the drink, then it's just a few minutes. If you don't have any then it shouldn't take that long, only about one or two hours, maximum, to regain all of your movement."

"I see... thank you for your help. You may leave now."

There's a weird noise, I guess that's the doctor grabbing his stuff and leaving. I continue to stare straight ahead and don't move. New Master walks up to me.

"Smile," says his voice. I smile. "You're one special little girl. You can drink whatever you want and nothing bad will happen." He pats my head. "Such a good pet you are. I am so glad that I took you away. You're such a wonderful thing to have around here." He strokes my hair. Woot, am I happy, or what? "We're going to have to train you in this, all right?" I continue to smile; it's a rhetorical question, we both know that if he wants me to do something I will do it. I like the fact that he pretends that I have a choice. "See how well you can hold your drink. Maybe we can raise the bar for you."

He continues to stroke my hair for a while and I continue to smile. "Stop smiling," he says. He stops stroking my hair and takes my hand. "It's time for you to go to sleep." I stand and follow him, smiling on the inside.

_I have an advanced bloodline._

_

* * *

_

Okay... so it's not liver sponges or a high metabolism. Oh well, advanced bloodlines are pretty cool too. Eep, I wonder what triggered that memory sequence... Oh, right... the smell of whiskey. I wonder if the tea is mine.

I lie still on my back as I was before. There does not seem to be any one else in the room. There has been no movement, no sounds, nothing to show that there is another person in this room with me. But I know that I shouldn't just assume that there is no one else in the room with me. Once before, on one of my earlier missions (just an easy assassination), I had thought the same thing. Until the smell of someone's fart hit my nose.

_**God... that was GROSS.**_

My sense of hearing picks up footsteps. The door is muffling them, so I can't tell very much about the person who's making them. I hear the unmistakeable rattle of a porcelain tea set on a tray. The person walking down... somewhere near me, probably a hallway, is carrying a tea tray which has cinnamon tea in it; cinnamon tea that is laced with whiskey.

The footsteps are soft, unhurried. I wonder if there's a storm brewing behind those ever so calm, ever so quiet, ever so soothing footsteps. Sometimes a calm façade can hide an insanely intense person.

The doorknob rattles and I wonder if I should feign sleep and try to acquire a bit of information on my whereabouts. It's worked before. I wonder how stupid this person is. I wonder how smart they are. I wonder if they are worth my time. I wonder where my master is...

_Why don't I remember?_

I hear the door open and I can feel the light from outside of the room flood in and slide across my eyes which twitch involuntarily at the small change in light. I wonder how bright the light will be once the person by the door turns it on.

**_UNBEARABLY BRIGHT!_ **

My eyes snap open against my will and I have to close them again the harsh glare of the bare, unfrosted one hundred watt light bulb coming down from the ceiling. I blink several times, trying to desperately to get my eyes accustomed to the harsh light.

_**Quick! Shut your eyes! Pretend you're sleeping!**_

_I can't! ACK! They've seen already!_

_**Shut your eyes!**_

_Shut your nonexistent mouth! It's too late to do that!_

I sit up and jump back, so that I'm crouching against the wall, using one arm one the wall and one arm on the bed to balance me. My eyes are still blurry and I can make out the figure of a grey-haired male standing at the foot of the bed. Oh no... I start to remember. I feel dizzy as my mind is overcome with memories. I know this man...

_**LIE DOWN! Play dead! Quick! Do something!**_

_I can't! It's too late to do anything!_

"Yo! Ah, good. You're awake," remarks the fuzzy ethereal blur by the foot of the bed.

_Much too late... _

"Sorry I'm late. I was dancing with a large octopus and it wanted to marry me but I had to decline so it shot me with ink. Here, drink some tea," he says, holding up the tray. "It's cinnamon." He smiles, but I can only tell that he is because his eye crinkles up. His other eye and the rest of his face are hidden from view.

_Oh dear... much too, much too late indeed. _

I know this man... I know him... from where do I remember him?

I stare at him in shock as he slowly comes in focus. Course, it doesn't really look like I'm in shock. I look perfectly normal, which for me is expressionless. But my eyes have widened a bit.

_Crud, I know where I saw him from... _

_**Oh god... he's... **_

I remember why I wasn't surprised when I woke up.

Oh... I'm back again; back to the present. The sky is just as dark as it was before and the moon hasn't moved a bit. I estimate that I've spent about twenty minutes remembering my sixteen-year-old self.

I sigh and lean back. Soon, I'm lying on my back, the cool tiles soothing my burning skin. I feel hot. The wind comes by just then and caresses my skin, as though it's trying to make me feel better. I smile. I love the outdoors at night.

I swing my legs which are dangling off the edge of the balcony. They're still wedged between the railing and the balcony. The wind feels nice on them.

I shut my eyes. I want to remember when I first met my mas—_husband. _I don't always make that mistake, you know, calling him master out loud. Now I have to call him my Kakashi-kun. Not that I want to. I think it's stupid for someone like me to call my master by his or her first name. I never even knew what my other masters' names were and I still don't. I don't think I want to know.

I remember the first time I met him; I was sixteen. I remember when he ordered to me to call him Kakashi-kun. I remember how I felt when he made me do that.

_Oi..._

I remember the thoughts I had about him...

I allow myself to go back in time again, back to when I first met my Kakashi-kun, what I was remembering when I awoke to the smell of cinnamon tea.

My breathing slows... I am no longer twenty-one. I am sixteen and I am in New Master's conference room.

I am about to meet my newest master, but I don't know that yet.

No, I don't know that yet.

* * *

Tweet... there you have it. That was my story about Kakashi and his new slave... thing... woman... child... thing. YEAH! Next chapter will be up... later. And you'll learn the woman's name; a name that I haven't decided on yet. .

Oh yeah, I got mad skills... I'm skilled at SLEEPING. Oh yeah, I can sleep! —goes off to sleep— Oh yeah, sleep is awesome. Wake me out of my slumber with a review if you want to. I promise I'll talk to you about it later on. Feel free to add me on MSN. My e-mail's on my page... thing. .

Ciao for now.


	2. Chapter Two: Disowned

**Without Purpose**

x.Initial Beginning.x

"..." - Speech

_Italics_ - Thoughts

_**Italicized Bold**_ - Inner Self

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. I do not own any songs featured in his story. I do, however, own my new character in here.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Without Purpose**

**Chapter Two**

**Disowned**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

And you reach my soul  
When I start to weaken  
And I lose control  
When you get down to it  
I belong to you

_Whitney Houston; I Belong To You_

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

New Master was in his grand sitting room. It was the most elaborate sitting room he had; that was a sure sign that he whomever he was going to entertain was someone he wanted to impress. Or kill. Or maybe both.

The ceiling was vaulted; the three foot long, shimmering, golden chandelier in the centre of it was hooked three stories above the ground. The ceiling itself was a mirage of golden framing and eclectic friezes. One could look at the ceiling for hours and never really see it all.

New Master was sitting in his throne. He had gotten his throne made especially for himself. It was a large, ebony black affair, encrusted with diamonds and rubies of various shapes and cuts. It was also gilded in gold. Swirling vines twirled up and about the legs and then ran up to the part of the chair that towered above his head as he sat; that was where he had spent the most of his money. He had gotten the chair-maker to collaborate with a jewel-setter and had gotten a huge rose, made entirely out of rubies, placed above his head. This way, whenever he sat down, the large, expensive rose that would be seen hovering over his head. New Master was very proud of his country and so, he liked to boast about the wonders of Rose Country to all whom would listen to him.

I was sitting quietly, well, kneeling actually, at the side of my New Master's throne. There was a table in front of me, hiding me from the curious eyes of any who came in to see New Master. If anyone sensed my chakra, it could easily be taken as New Master's chakra; his chakra that didn't exactly exist.

New Master may have been one Rose Country's greatest and most powerful gang leaders, but he was a total failure when it came to chakra. He couldn't sense chakra, he couldn't feel chakra, heck, it was doubtful that he even _had_ chakra! But he had gotten into Rose Country's Ninja Academy with the help of his father's generous donations and had passed the ninja academy and gone into the family business of gangs. The fact that he could sense chakra no better than he could lay an egg was a well-guarded secret that only a select few knew about.

I was rather upset to be hidden behind a table. I'd been ordered to kneel until New Master told me to change my position. New Master's other pet was to the other side of his throne. He wasn't hidden.

For a second, I felt a jolt of jealousy which I quickly quashed. There was no reason for me to feel jealous. It was just another pet; just another thing in Master's eyes. So what if I had to hide behind a table as the other pet lounged about where he wished. So what if that pet had the privilege of walking around wherever it wished. That just meant that I was so more important than him. In fact, it meant that I was of much more importance than that pet. In fact, that pet was to be pitied. Hecould walk wherever it wanted; no one cared where it went.He was allowed to be known by everyone. He was allowed to prowl about wherever he wished, whenever he wished, while my whereabouts were known and monitored at all times. I was much more important.

I could not be jealous of him. He should have been jealous of me. I was New Master's favourite and the proof of that statement dangled about my wrist: I wore a thin black cord about my wrist. All the rest of New Master's slaves wore red, or brown, or green on their wrists; it was a hierarchy of sorts among the servants. I was the only one who wore a black cord.

Once, long ago, only I and an old woman had worn brown wristlets, but now, so many more slaves had been brought into New Master's possession that he required a way to rank them and give them order. The old woman had passed away a year after gaining a black wristlet. She was the second to get it; I was the first. I had never met the old woman; I had only heard of her from fragments of conversations that I allowed myself to hear.

Information was a deadly thing, even in the most careful hands. For that reason, I rarely allowed myself to pay attention to the conversations that went on around me. If I needed to know anything, New Master would inform me.

"Pay attention, Pet," rang out New Master's voice. "This is important. Today you learn how the rest of your life will go." He patted my head and I beamed. It was lovely to be touched.

I waited now, eager to be of service. To pay attention was to stand ready and wait for my cue. I had no idea what I was to do, but I would know what it was the second I heard it.

Kneeling still, I breathed easily. This was nothing compared to my last order.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Why did you bring me here, Tsunade?"

Tsunade frowned. She was the god-damned Hokage, and she could do as she god-damned pleased, that was why! The whole time they had been travelling, that stupid pervert had continuously _questioned_ her actions. When they got back, she was going to give him the lowest ranking missions she could find.

It wasn't like she was keeping the purpose of their trip a secret. Okay, so she was. She could do things like that. Gees, didn't jounin have any trust in their Hokage anymore? Stupid jackasses. She had known that if he had known what was really going to happen that he would have resisted coming. She wasn't sure if her power as a Hokage would have made him come.

All he knew was that she had been summoned to the Rose Country to negotiate with someone powerful enough to hold her attention.

And powerful he was.

Brett Rose, was the largest mob leader in all of Rose Country. He had once been near cousin to Leaf Country's greatest gang leader, that is, until the leader was killed by a ninja. A ninja who just happened to be accompanying her.

Rumour had it that Brett was softening; he was going to get married and was giving up his fiendish ways. In order to convince the world of his "retirement", he was going to give things away to all the Kages, to settle old debts. In fact, rumour had it that the Kazekage had been over to seen him before her own arrival. The Kazekage had left with one of Brett's most prized possessions. There was no way to leave without taking something; to do so would have been disrespectful to Brett. It also would have led him to believe that she didn't believe that he was "retiring," which would have been most uncomfortable.

Brett had asked especially for Hatake Kakashi to accompany her.

Watching Kakashi now, she grew weary of going over the possibilities dealing with what was going to happen. Perhaps this was all merely a very complex trap to get revenge upon Kakashi for killing his cousin. But Brett had never liked his cousin, and if rumours were to believed, he really did want to go out of the gangster business with no one holding a grudge against him.

The gangster didn't want to give Kakashi a gift, he _had_ to give Kakashi a gift. It was atonement of some sort. Tsunade knew little of Rose Country, but she knew that they held debts close to their heart. If a sworn enemy of yours killed your mother and later tried to redeem themselves by giving you a gift, you would take it and you would be the best of friends. However, if your best friend killed you mother, you would never speak to them again, no matter how many gifts they gave you. But if it was your sister who killed your mother, you would give _her_ a gift. And if it was your brother, he would give you a gift. It was all very confusing, but after a while, you realized there was a crooked type of logic to it. At least, that's what her researchers had said. The fact was, anyone could try to atone for a debt, and anyone could accept the gift, or reject it.

The gift that Brett was going to give Kakashi would be huge. And expensive. And probably irreplaceable. And Kakashi, being the prideful man he was, would wave his hand, tell Brett to let bygones be bygones, reject the gift and then be killed moments later for the amount of "shame" he had given Brett. Rejecting the gift, a gift that important and meaningful would be horrifically insulting to Brett and would cause him much shame. That was another thing with Rose Country's people. They seemed to think that shame was more horrible than pain.

Insulting Rose Country's greatest gangster before he retied was something Tsunade didn't have high on her to do list. Now, she only had to get Kakashi to see things her way.

"Kakashi."

"Yes, Hokage-sama?"

"I haven't been very up front with you about this mission."

"Mm, I know," he mumbled, looking at his book.

She quirked one of her eyebrows at him. He had been dying to know what was going on, and now, he was paying more attention to his book than to her? What was with him? That stupid jounin. Whatever games he was playing, she knew he was only playing them to bother her.

"Do you want me to tell you why you're here?"

"Of course," he said, turning a page, his one visible eye glued to the book.

"Then will you _please _put that book down!" she ordered, more than asked.

Kakashi sighed as he folded the corner of the page he was on before placing the book carefully into one of his pockets. She leaned forward in her chair, placing her elbows on her knees and then cradled her chin in her hands. Looking at him , she could tell, even from his lazy stance, that he was giving her his utmost attention. It was near impossible to read the damned man. Half the time, he looked like he was going to fall asleep and the other half of the time was spent looking like he was about to orgasm. It was really quite odd.

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, taking on a regal pose. She was going to need all the authority she had to convince him to go along with this.

"Who requested us to come here?" she asked him.

"Us? I thought it was just you."

"Us." She watched him carefully. He showed no outward reaction. But his blood flow had quickened a bit. She could tell from the vein in his neck. "The summons were for both of us. I guess I forgot to mention that. So who asked for us?"

"I don't know."

"Several years ago, you killed the Leaf Country's lead mobster, Shifuuya."

"He's come back from the dead?"

Her right eye twitched. "No, Kakashi, he hasn't come back. Think… what country are we in?"

"Rose Country."

"Does that ring any bells?"

"Why don't you just tell me what you're getting at? I'm tired of playing cat and mouse."

"Brett, Rose Country's lead gangster was Shifuuya's near cousin." She paused, trying to find a good way to word what she was going to say next.

"So… Brett asked for you to bring me here so that he could kill two ninjas with one stone."

"No." She shook her head. "I don't know. He says he's retiring. Sources say the Kazekage and several other Kages have already visited him as have several mob leaders. Both friends and enemies have come to him. He gives them gifts, to nullify old grudges and show that old alliances still stand. He is rectifying his past."

Kakashi continued his calm observation of her. "He doesn't have to give me anything. We have no debt to each other."

Tsunade sighed. "Kakashi, think about this! That's not how he sees this. He said he had a fucking _blood_ debt to you! Apparently, here they have the Rose Standard: Honour, Respect, and Obligation. He is obligated to go in your favour. If you were to go to war, and by then, he hadn't paid up the debt, he would be obligated to back you up. If you killed all his family for ten generations, and by then, he hadn't paid up the debt, he would be obligated to bring you into his house with open arms. He is going to pay off this debt whether you like it or not!"

"I can negotiate."

Anger was starting to get the better of her. "No you cannot! That would insult him and you know that! You have knowledge of every country! You should know how things work here!"

"Rose Country is relatively new."

"Which makes this situation so much more volatile! Kakashi, you _must _accept his gift!"

"Yes, miss."

"Even if it's millions of dollars. Even if he brings the moon down from the sky. Even if he gives you a country! I do not care! You _must_ accept this gift, if not for me, then for the Fire Country!"

"Yes, miss."

"As your commander, I order you to accept."

"Yes, miss."

"As your Hokage, I order you to accept."

"Yes, miss."

"Kakashi… I know how you feel about this. But… as someone who cares about your safety… please, tell me that you will accept the gift."

"I will, Hokage-sama."

"Thank you, Kakashi."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Well, Tsunade sat in silence for a while. After Kakashi realized that their chat was over, he promptly pulled his bright orange porno book out of his pocket and began reading again. Tsunade wondered what was going to happen next.

Someone knocked at the door. They weren't startled though. They had heard the footsteps when they were a hallway away.

"Hokage-sama, Hatake-san." The man at the door bowed. "It is requested that you meet Master-sama in the Grand Hall." Kakashi took in the weird, butler-like man's appearance. He wore a dark green shirt with black embroidery running up and down the sleeves and lapels. His cuffs and color black and probably made the skin of his hands and neck seem paler than they already were. His pants and shoes were both the same shade of dark, forest green as his shirt. Everything he wore was either green or black. Kakashi remembered a few servants he had chanced upon seeing earlier on. The ones in red had scurried as quickly as they could in every direction, bowing all the while at everyone. The ones in brown moved less quickly and bowed to the guests and to the servants in green. The green-clothed men and women seemed to slide around and looked down their noses at all red and brown clothed men and women. There was a green cord wrapped around his wrist. The colours must have been something to do with rank.

The man's slithery voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "If it would please you to follow me, Master-sama is waiting."

Master-sama? Okay, so Brett didn't have servants; he had slaves.

"Of course," answered Hokage before they were swept down the first of many halls to come. The walls were all dark and sombre. The wall hangings did a bit to lighten the place up. Most of them were of crazy swirls exploding in epileptic fury. They reminded him of the stars he saw once, before he was knocked out. There were pedestals set up and around the halls, each holding statues, and vases, and some things he couldn't make out. One was in the shape of a large circle and seemed to be made out of glass.

Suddenly, they stopped before two doors. There were guards in front of them, mirror images clothed in deep black livery with gold embroidery swirling up and down their suits. Their shirts seemed to be made out of silk. The slithery man in green slid over to the two guards, and then scurried off as the door opened.

Tsunade entered the room first, and the first thing she saw was Brett sitting in a huge throne with the Rose of Rose Country resting several inches above his head. "Have a seat," he drawled, gesturing with his hands to a sofa placed across from him. The sofa was decorated much in the same sense as the guards had been; black fabric with golden embroidery. Tsunade sat down first and was delighted that the couch was soft.

"Hello Brett," she said to him.

"May you always have water and dignity, Hokage-sama, and you, Kakashi-san."

"Of course, I wish the same to you," intoned Kakashi, in the proper Rose Country fashion. Tsunade could have fallen over from joy. Despite what he had said in the room, Kakashi was a very unpredictable and sarcastic person, and she had had no clue if he had really meant what he said.

"I supposed you have heard many rumours of my reasons to bring you here to see me." Brett clapped his hands and slaves decked in green, much like the former slithery butler-like male who had accompanied them to the Grand Hall, circulated the room, holding golden glasses on black trays to distribute not wine, but water.

"I am leaving my current job," he began, totally ignoring the slaves walking around the three of them. "I have a wife now, and can no longer engage in certain activities. Due to this fact, I now offer gifts of peace."

He paused, and took a deep drink from his goblet. He kept the golden goblet in his hand. "To you, Hokage-sama and the village of Konoha, I give," he snapped his fingers and a large, deep green chest, carved with intricate leaves appeared on the table with the help of several slaves. One of the servants opened the chest, which Tsunade now noticed was covered in silver gilt. "Priceless jewels and silver pendants. I also give to you," with another snap, another slave appeared, this one holding a jewellery box. Tsunade took a deep drink of water as she stared at what was before her. "A leaf and silver necklace set of indisputable beauty."

"I thank you kindly Brett, but I fear I cannot accept such a lavish gift. The city and I are unable to return the gift to you without dishonouring ourselves." She took a sip of her water again.

"But Tsunade-sama, this is a gift. I expect nothing in return. I am repaying you for anything my associates and I may or may not have done to the wonderful village of Konoha."

"Of course."

"So you accept?"

"I accept." She took one last sip of her drink and placed her goblet on a tray that a green and gold liveried servant held by her side.

Brett nodded and took a sip of his own drink, sealing their peace gift. "You have not said much, Kakashi-san."

"No, I haven't."

"You do not wish to be here?"

Tsunade winced inwardly at his tone. Gods, Kakashi, what was wrong with him? Brett was reading him like an open book.

"Not once I realized what you were proposing." Kakashi stared right at Brett as he placed his goblet on the try proffered by a servant by his side. Tsunade groaned inwardly, wondering if she could spontaneously combust at that moment if she thought about it hard enough.

Brett placed his goblet on a table by his side. "And what is it that you think that I am proposing?"

"That you should give me a gift."

"And what is wrong with that?"

"I do not need gifts."

"You will not accept?"

"I will."

Brett's eyebrows rose and he gave a not so subtle glance at Tsunade. "By your own accord?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Yes, by my own accord."

"I am overjoyed."

"You don't look it."

"I've learned to hide my emotions, as have you."

Kakashi nodded silently, wondering if his answers had made the debt larger or smaller in Brett's eyes.

"I was going to give you many jewels and riches. I have changed my mind now."

Kakashi nodded. "I thought you would."

"I would like to give you my Pet. Have you seen her yet?"

"The tiger?" asked Kakashi, motioning to the tiger lounging by Brett's side.

Brett burst into laughter. "You amuse me Kakashi-san. First you greaten a blood debt which I thought could go no higher, and now you mistake this beast for my Pet. This beast is not even female." He laughed silently for a while. "This is Rajkumar. His is my warrior cat. He is beautiful, yes?" Brett pressed his hand into the cat's thick fur and rubbed. The feline gave off an odd growl-like purr.

"He looks nice," answered Kakashi, unsure of what to say. How could he have greatened the blood debt? Damn it, he should have just accepted the first offer and given the jewels away. What kind of weird pet could this man own?

"He can rip a man to pieces in under a minute. He is very efficient. Unfortunately, the blood stains his fur for days at a time, and I am unable to allow such frivolity to one of my beasts."

"Mm," Kakashi murmured, still thinking of what to do. There had to be a way out of this.

"Would you like tea?"

"If you would."

"Then, I would like tea. We shall have tea and you shall meet my Pet." He gave a sniff and Kakashi noticed a movement to the side of the table. "It's tea time," said Brett, with an odd smile.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I arose smoothly from behind the table, my head lowered. I was wearing a very ornate kimono today. It was really quite beautiful; it was made of the richest black silk I had ever felt. The embroidery was all in metallic thread; red roses and almost invisible black vines. My hair was up in elaborate swirls and held in places with red and black pins. It had taken _hours _to get my hair done. I was rather proud of it. Several green bands had waited upon me. Perhaps that was how New Master's Lady felt when green bands did her hair and makeup, and helped her dress.

"This is my most prized possession, Kakashi-san," New Master intoned. "She is very graceful." I beamed at the praise and chanced a glance to the people sitting on the couch. There was a lady; perhaps she was the Hokage-sama which New Master had spoken of a while ago. She showed much too much chest than was proper, but she held herself with the dignity of a noblewoman. The man, Kakashi-san as he was called, reminded me of a viper. He seemed to be all loose and laid-back, but I could tell that his muscles were tense. His chakra, I noticed, seemed to dance about him; that was something that happened to younger children when they were distressed. How odd.

"If you would please pour us tea? The cinnamon."

I bowed. "Of course, New Master."

I glided about he table that had hid me from view and kneeled at the table. My task was very simple. First I was to take three cups, add a teabag to each, and then pour water over the bags. I offered to the lady first, asking her if she wanted milk, sugar, or honey. She declined all three and took only the tea. To Kakashi-san, I offered the tea and condiments; he accepted the milk and the honey and seemed to watch me very carefully. I wasn't offended. To New Master I gave a cup of tea with only five drops of honey. After he accepted the china cup, I stood still, awaiting my next orders.

New Master placed his cup on the table and motioned towards me. "Good. Down." I walked over to his side, so that I could see both the couch and New Master. He patted my head and I was so enthralled. It wasn't often that I got to be in New Master's company, and even less often was I given so many reasons to be happy.

"You like?" asked New Master, still stroking my hair as he took a sip of his tea.

"Like what?" asked Kakashi-san. "The tea?"

"That and my Pet. She is very beautiful, yes?"

"The tea is good, and she is very pretty. Stunning actually. Does she have a name? I'd like to thank her for the tea."

"Her name is Pet."

"Pet?" There was an odd lilt to his voice; I wondered if I had given him too much milk. Or too little. Or perhaps I had added one too many drops of honey?

"Yes," answered New Master, seemingly oblivious to the small change in Kakashi-san's speech. "Not only is she my pet, but she enjoys being petted as well." He pet my head again and I went as far as to smile.

"I see." The strain was still on the man's voice. I wondered if the milk had been poisoned.

"She's been trained in many way. She can dance, fight, seduce, stalk, and kill. She can't cook for her life though." New Master shook his head slightly.

"I'm afraid I cannot cook very well either."

"So she amuses you?"

"I suppose so." Kakashi-san took another long sip of his tea.

"Good. She is yours then." New Master clapped his hands. I froze involuntarily, coming back to life as New Master stroked my hair once more. Surely, for once in my life, I had misheard.

"What?" sputtered Kakashi-san. "I don't want her!"

"Why not?" asked New Master, as he stopped the petting of my hair.

Okay, perhaps I had not misheard.

"She is beautiful, poised, learned, and exceptionally obedient." At any other time, the compliments spewing from New Master's mouth would have made me swoon; at the moment, I hadwanted to vomit.

"I could tell her to kill herself and she would."

"So? I still don't want her."

"Cover your ears pet."

I covered my ears in chakra as I had been taught. Kakashi-san was shaking his head and the old woman's mouth was twitching, as though she wanted to say something but wouldn't. I wondered if this was what New Master had been referring to when I had first been called to this room.

I soon felt New Master running his hand through my hair and I automatically let go of the chakra filling my ears.

New Master's voice rang loud and clear.

"Kill yourself."

I grabbed a knife from between my breasts. It was amazing that a sheath and knife could fit between them, well, I thought it was amazing. There was so little room there, but hey, compact knives can go anywhere now.

"Stop."

The two commands were said one right after the other and yet my knife was pressed into my neck and a thin line of blood was started to drip down beneath the cut. Ifthecommandshad been any slower, I would have been dead.

The man, Kakashi-san, was at his feet and his one visible eye was furious. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

New Master was eerily calm compared to the now volatile Kakashi-san. "I have no use for her now. If you don't want her, then I don't want her." He took a sip of tea. "Pity, she did made such a nice cup of tea."

Kakashi-san sat down hard on the couch, so hard that the old woman next to him actually bounced where she sat. Her mouth was a hard line; if anyone tried to make her speak now, I suppose they would regret it. Kakashi-san leaned back, not relaxing, sitting quietly for a moment before opening his mouth.

"If I don't accept her, then you'll kill her."

"She'll kill herself."

"That's disgusting," said the stranger as his eye narrowed.

"So?"

"This is lower than blackmail! You're playing on my conscience."

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

"Then you accept?"

"Yes," was Kakashi-san's curt reply.

"To the side. Disown her."

I was numb as I walked over to the side of the room. Kakashi and the old woman were to one side of me, while New Master was on the other. I didn't so much as go to my knees as fall to my knees. I had seen this happen countless times, I had even helped out a few times. I had never believed it would happen to me.

I was… being disowned.

That in itself was a horrible thing. But I was being used to settle a blood debt. That was an honour. Except when the recipient of the gift didn't want you. I was being forced onto another man. The shame of it all was starting to overwhelm me. I wished I had been allowed to cut my throat.

A slave came by. It was a red-band. Oh god, I almost swayed as bile rushed up my throat. I was worth so much more than a red-band. I was a black-band! A **black-band!** Green-bands quivered as I walked by, brown-bands dashed off in the other direction. Red-bands ran when they saw me. They ran!

The red-band by my side quivered as she removed my black band. I seethed inwardly as I held out my wrist. I knew that the red-band was not quivering because of me; she was quivering from awe of the black-band she was removing. At the other side of the room, a green-band kneeled. He was ugly and old. He was being retaken. That stupid green-band was going to take my band!

Water is thrown over my head. It's freezing and I shiver not with the cold, but with rage. I did not deserve this.

"I said I'd take her!" The silver-haired man I first saw now seemed agitated and was again standing up. "What are you doing to her?"

I realized that the man in front of New Master was to be my new master. At least I would have a master. That was good. I wondered what orders I would have.

"Cleansing, Kakashi-san," answered New Master. "Sit Kakashi-san." The man took New Master's order and sat. "You need someone without ties."

The sparkly clips, which had been carefully arranged in my hair, were yanked out. That should have been done before the water was thrown on me. My kimono felt heavy and was sticking to my skin.

"Pet," spoke New Master once more, "before I release you, I grant you permission to one conversation with me." He actually smiled at me as he said that.

"Why me?" I asked, staring at the floor. I looked up at him. "Why not another?"

"Why, because I love you, darling," was his answer. He took another sip of tea. Once the ceremony was over, I would wish that he choked on it.

"Then why don't you keep me? You will keep the women with the child! Surely you love them more than you love me! Give them away! She will hinder you and your progress."

I didn't care if there were two strangers in the room and I didn't care for the rights being read to the old man opposite me, the one without any teeth. Stupid green-band. I didn't care about anything at the moment, except why this was happening to me.

"She is my wife… my very insecure wife." New Master chuckled into his tea. "She is feeling fat, and not very pretty, and being around you makes her feel so even more so."

"Then mar my skin." I looked at New Master in astonishment. The answer was so simple. He just had to cut me up a bit and I would not be beautiful any longer. "I do not require beauty."

"But I like you pretty."

"Then…" I was desperate for something to say. "Then, marry me as well, and make me carry your child too!" I looked at him, pleadingly, "Mine would be stronger! You know it would!"

"I don't doubt that. But that is just what my wife fears. She doesn't want me to love another."

"But love between two people is very much different than love between an object and a person!"

"I have never heard you so emotional before."

"Objects and people tend to get emotional when speaking out of fear for life."

The old woman finally decided to speak at that point. "Don't be silly child," she began. "Hatake-san will not harm you."

"Not _my_ life!" I said, shaking my head. "New Master's life! Who will protect you when the sun goes down? Who will watch your back as you bathe? Who will make sure no enemies come upon you while you sleep?" I gestured wildly at the green-band who had just now taken my place. "Surely not him!" He sneered at me openly and walked away, thumbing his black-band. He could do that now. All of them could. I was nothing now. Even a **red-band** could slap me across the face and I would be able to do nothing.

"I have guards."

"None of them can protect you as I can!"

"I know." He paused, drained his cup, and placed it on a tray that a green-band held by his side. New Master stared off into space, perhaps enjoying the beauty of one of the murals, perhaps not. "The fact that you speak with such emotion gives me hope."

He tilted his neck back and sighed. "My wife was screaming most heartily at me for… how did she put it? Oh yes… de-emotionalizing you. She says you're a robot." He smiled. "Remember that day when you both had your makeup done and you barely moved because she wouldn't order you? Ha! I got into so much trouble for that. She said that you would do nothing but obey and that I was a horrid man for doing it to you. But what can I say? I got you this way and thought it was too late to change you. If only she could see you now."

He relaxed in his chair. "You are stripped of your titles."

Another jug of water was spilt over my head.

"You are washed clean of old oaths."

Another jug's contents were spilled.

"You leave all secrets bound here."

Another jug.

I could have wept. I might have wept. I can't remember.

"You will now swear oaths to Hatake Kakashi."

I shivered as I pulled myself up, as high as I could go on my knees. The words that spilled from my mouth had been memorized long ago, for such an occasion. Yet, all had memorized them.

Why did I have to go?

"I swear to obey Hatake Kakashi faithfully, purposefully, and without fail for as long as I live. Every order from his lips I will try to do until I have accomplished it. I give to him my life, my rights, my belongings, and my ownership."

I was staring at the wall opposite me. There was a frieze of two women dancing while a gentle breeze swept past them, throwing red petals everywhere. I bet the petals were actually drops of blood and the two women weren't so much as dancing as fighting.

I could see New, Bre—Old Master looking very relaxed in his throne. He was nodding to my words. Ka—New Master looked very agitated. His eye was popping with every word that I said. His chest was also starting to rise irregularly. He shot glaring looks at the old woman beside him and at New—Old Master. The old woman's lips twitched and she stared straight ahead.

"I relinquish thought, mind, power, and body to the purpose of obeying and serving Hatake Kakashi in each and every way required for any reason." I paused, not wanting to say the last words. Was this really the end for me? Was I really going to be shoved away to another? Sure, to settle a blood debt, but to settle a blood debt forcefully? Was that not wrong?

"I am yours Hatake Kakashi, and I await your orders."

The last jug of water was dumped over my head and the finality of the process threatened to overwhelm me. Now I could see why so many others fainted after the first jug of water. Many had not been able to finish without breaking down into sobs.

I had done better than them though. I survived the entire process without a single mishap.

I took back my words as the world began to sway.

The last thing I saw was not my wondrous New—Old Master's face, but New Master and the old woman jumping to their feet.

After that, I believe I fainted.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Reviews**

**Pie Face: **Oh yeah, he likes them both. Nope, green tea is my hate. Well, not really. But yeah.

**miyazawa kano: **His face is something I wish to see. And yes, that chick needs a friend. Bad. Yurp, advanced bloodline to remove drunken-ness.

**fallen-spirit: **Yep, pretty creepy, isn't it? In fact, it's super creepy. Husbands should not be masters. They should be captives.

**xkuroxshinobix:** Yep, he's old. He wears a mask because he's evil.

**PeachBerry:** Long chapters are my gods. Bob is my friendly muse. He's changed his name now. Now, he wants to be called Pepsi B'Dobb.

**Trinity: **You make a lot of sense. And OC's with Kakashi are awesome. Yep, blank stretch. Yep, you've got the time-line right, but I'm going to change a bit of it. I accidentally wrote that Kakashi was 16 years her senior, when he's only 14. Oops. Thanks for the review! (Odd, didn't record this review….)

**ally:** I'm awake. Just… tired.

**Fade-sempai**: I am elaborating… later. Or now. I'm not sure. Don't worry, elaborations will come. Eventually.

_And that is the end of this review response session._


	3. Chapter Three: I'd Do Anything

**Short, sweet, & simple: **I'm lame and do not have the will power nor the time to update all my fics on a regular basis. I am sporadic. Get used to it. This chapter contains sex, lust, death, and moving. As does most of the story. I just thought I'd point it out this time.

**Summary: **Pet, a brainwashed slave is given a new owner but in the process is disowned. She's trying to do what her new master Kakashi wants her to do, but it's incredibly hard when doing what he wants her to do goes against everything she's believed in. Oh, and she gets an actual name! Yay!

**Warning:** Yes, there is an OC in here. Beware of OOC-ism. Sex, lust, death, and moving are mentioned. Perhaps they are more than mentioned. I can't tell. The age of the narrator **changes** during the chapter. Most age changes are noted by a line break of x's and dashes. Yay! X's and dashes are a few of my favourite things!

**Rated:** M. For Mature, not Maverick.

**Disclaimer: **The mutilated lyrics belong to Simple Plan and Naruto does not belong to me.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Without Purpose**

**Chapter Three**

**I'd Do Anything  
**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_I'll be here_

_I'll be waiting_

_This could be the one last chance to make you understand_

…

_I'd do anything_

- Simple Plan; I'd Do Anything

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

New Master put the tray down on my bed. It was a tray I was used to; sometimes I would get breakfast while lounging in bed after a particularly trying assassination. There was a small teapot, a cup already full of fragrant cinnamon tea, a bowl of sugar, and a small pitcher of cream on the tray. There is also a small silver bottle, one that is usually used to hold alcohol; it is what was emitting the smell of whiskey. The teapot was decorated with pigs. Large, pink, pigs with wings…and the cup was plainer, but a very bright, vibrant pink.

I wondered if my New Master was a homosexual.

He walked around the bed, eventually sitting on the side. I slid back into the covers, finding that I was wearing a large white tee-shirt and a pair of oversized black pants. The waist had been rolled several times, but I could still feel the legs going over my feet. Whoever owned these pants was a lot taller than I was.

"How may I be of service, New Master?" I asked demurely, wondering what was going to take place.

I was insecure and hating it. I was not meant to be insecure, afraid, or confused. I wished I were back with Old Master.

_Old Master…_

Where was Old Master? Back in Rose Country with his petulant wife. How horrid. And here I was… somewhere I have never seen before. I wonder if I have been taken out of the country. I recall hearing something about Fire Country and something else about trees, or had it been leaves? I wasn't sure.

_**Pay attention!**_

_I am!_

"Just drink this," he said, as he picked up the brightly coloured cup and put it in my hands. "I put some whiskey in it, so you might want to—"

He cut off as I downed the drink. It was hot, very hot and I fought hard not to sputter as it burned its way down my throat. I thought I burnt the back of my tongue. And possibly the whole of my esophagus. Well, all of it that wasn't smothered in mucus and spit.

"Drink a little slower…" he finished, a little late.

"I apologize," I said, holding the cup in my hands. I was so confused. Was I supposed to look at him while I talked? Or was I supposed to look away? And what to do with the cup?

He solved the cup problem by taking it out of my hands and pouring me another cup of tea. He added a substantial amount of whiskey to it. Not that I minded. However, for the whiskey to actually have the desired effect on me, I'd have to have a few bottles. Like, perhaps a hundred to make myself a little tipsy. Once I got over a hundred, it was hard to keep my drinking under control though.

"I hope you hold your liquor well," he said, smiling as he passed me the cup.

"Was that a statement or a question?" I asked, highly embarrassed. He wasn't supposed to talk to me like, like this! I was an object he had just acquired. Masters did not go around giving tea to objects! I sincerely doubted he had given the table in the corner of the room a cup of tea. Or maybe this was what he normally did with his objects. But, New, er, Old Master would never have given me to a crazy man… would he have?

"What does it matter?" he asked, his face hidden behind a mask of dark blue cloth. His left eye was covered by a silver ninja head-band with his city's symbol engraved into it. It vaguely resembled a leaf.

I almost flinched. Was this supposed to be a conversation? The longest conversation I had ever had (well, practically the only conversation I had ever had) with New... Old Master had been the one before I was disowned. And now, here I was, having an actual conversation with my New Master. Like it was normal or something.

"If it was a question then I should answer it; it was a statement then I should not have spoken at all."

He stared at me for a moment and I took the opportunity to drink from my cup. I swallowed it all down harshly again all the while berating myself for looking like such an imbecile in front of my New Master.

"I apologize again." I tried to explain my actions. "I am not accustomed to you mannerisms or your speech patterns. Hopefully I will catch onto it with little to no teaching."

"Teaching?" he questioned.

"From the trainer," I said, blinking at him. "Is it too bold for me to ask if they are too busy to work with me?"

"What trainer?"

I look at him in surprise. "The one who is to teach me how to act."

He stared at me, his one visible eye unblinking. And then he laughed. "No one is going to teach you how to act. Act like you want!"

I must have looked quite horrified, for he continued speaking rather quickly. "It'll be fine. Just do what you want! Er, you can have the bed, I'll just take the couch. We'll find something to do with you. Maybe you can, er… find a job or something. It'll be fine."

"I… a job?" I stared at him in disbelief. All this staring is probably not good for our eyes.

"Ah, yeah. Have you got any experience in anything?"

"The only job I have is to do your bidding."

"Do my bidding? Do you always talk like this?"

"Yes, your bidding. Whatever you desire, that's what I'm here for. And what do you mean, 'talk like this'?"

"So formally?"

"Does it bother you? I can change it if you like."

"What? No, don't do that. Don't change anything. Just, be yourself. Do what you want."

"But I want to do what you want me to do."

"But I don't have anything for you to do!" He was frustrated and had gotten up from the bed during our 'talk' if you could call it that.

"Then I will wait for you to find something for me to do," I answered sagely.

"No. Do what you want to do."

"But I want to do what you want me to do."

"This is getting us no where." He seemed to glare at me.

"Do you want me to look at the ground when you are angered? Or should I look in a certain direction?"

"What?"

My change of topic seemed to have taken him off guard.

"Look in any direction you want to! Close your eyes if you want to! Do what you want to do!"

I bit my lip in my frustration. "But I don't know what I want to do."

"Just… here," he grabbed the cup and poured me another drink. "Drink this."

"Yes, New Master."

"What?"

"Yes, New Master."

"What did you just say?"

I wondered if he was hard of hearing as well as homosexual. "Yes, New Master."

"No."

"No what?" I sipped the drink, allowing the tea to flow over my tongue.

"No calling me this _Master_ stuff."

"But, what else am I to call you?" What else was there to call him? Leader? Owner?

"Kakashi."

"Kakashi?"

He nodded.

"But, but that is not even a title!"

"I have no need for a title."

"I… but this is…" I ran out of words. I didn't know what to say. What was there to say? How could he ask me to call him by his name? As if I were worthy to call him such. "Uncalled… no, I cannot."

"You can't what?"

"I, I cannot call you Ka… Kakashi." I made a face when I said his name. "It is uncalled for and disparaging for me to use it in such a casual way."

"I thought you said you would do whatever I wanted."

"But, but that is… wrong."

"It's my name."

I was saved from further discussion by a loud knock at the door. A woman enter, her hair in pigtails and her substantial bust ready to overflow out of her shirt. It was the Hokage, Tsunade-sama.

"Yo," said New Master to the Hokage.

She glanced in my direction before looking at New Master. "Ah, good, she's awake. Have you spoken to her?"

"She's crazy."

"Hatake, she's not crazy. Just, different."

"Have you informed her what to call you?"

"Yep."

"And she agreed?"

"Kind of."

"Hatake, the care of a slave is a serious business! You read all of those books I gave you on the way back, didn't you?"

"Yep."

"And? You have to take this slowly!"

"Fine."

"Tell her she has to acknowledge me and my presence as if it were yours. As well as my orders."

"Fine." New Master half-turned and faced me. "Acknowledge Hokage-sama and her presence as though she were myself."

Finally, a real order. "Yes, New Master."

There is a startled silence.

"I thought you said you told her to call you Kakashi!"

"And I thought I said 'Kind of' as an answer."

Hokage's mouth twitched and she looked at me. Well, it was more of a glare. "Do you want to get Hatake in trouble?"

"No, Hokage-sama."

"Do you want to go against his orders?"

"No, Hokage-sama! It is my dearest and fondest wish to fulfill his every command."

"And yet you refrain from calling him Kakashi. Why is that?"

"It is disrespectful, Hokage-sama."

"I know."

I keep my face straight although I wish I could glare at the woman. "Then why would you ask me to call him Kakashi?" I am being much too bold, much bolder than I ever was with Old Master.

"Because it is what you must do. Slavery is looked down upon everywhere. I know you must think that there are slaves everywhere like you, but there aren't. You are the only one of your kind in this country. And in order to fit in and keep Hatake here from getting into trouble, you must call him Kakashi when you are not around other people. We insist on this for a reason."

"I apologize for disobeying. I wait for punishment."

"There will be no punishment," said Kakashi.

"I am forgiven then? Without punishment?" I looked at him in surprise. "Why?"

"You're not just here to fit in," he paused. "What is you name?"

"I do not have a name. Names are for people of importance and significance, not for slaves."

"What did Brett call you?"

"Old Master called me 'Pet'."

"Now, that won't do," interjected the Hokage.

"Well, what do you want to be called?" asked New Master, er, Kakashi earning a sigh from the Hokage for some odd reason.

"What ever you wish to call me."

"Is that all you can say?"

"I have not repeated anything."

"Whatever you want me to do, whatever you want to call me, what ever you want me to say, is that all you can say?" He seemed distressed and I was unsure of what to do.

"I… Tell me what to say and I will say it. You are my master now."

He stared for a second and then pushed past the Hokage, slamming the door as he left the room.

"Have I done something wrong?" I assumed it was all right for me to speak freely to the Hokage although I was being careful (or at least trying to be careful) with what I said. "Should I check upon him and see what bothers him?"

"No," she said. "Stay here." Her mouth twitched and she watched the door for a minute; it was almost as though she were trying to will the door to open with her eyes.

She sighed and looked at me before sitting on the bed. "Look, Kakashi is just not used to having a slave. No one here is. And the fact is, Kakashi doesn't really want to have you. But I've forbidden him from giving you away. You could be a very valuable asset to this town once we have you trained correctly and remove your brainwashing."

"I am not brainwashed."

"Yes, you are. You don't know it yet, and you don't believe me now, but we're going to work on getting you assimilated here. We're planning on freeing you—"

"What?" I interrupted. "Free? I don't want to be _free!_" I spat out my word in disgust. Free? First I was disowned and now I was going to be freed? What terrible atrocity had I committed against New Master to be freed?

"What did I do wrong? How have I offended you? Can I not make it up to you? I— I'll do—"

"You didn't do anything wrong," she interrupted me. "This isn't a punishment."

"Yes it is! You can't free me! I won't let you! You can't!" I was losing my composure. The shock of being disowned, of being given away, of getting a new master was horrible enough, but to be told that I was going to be **freed**? It was enough to make me ill.

"I feel ill. I... I do not want—"

"Fine, rest then. I'll be back in a few days or so. I'll have someone bring in books for you. I order you to read them all, back to front and understand what they're saying." She paused as she stood up and walked to the door. "We're not trying to hurt you; this is for your own good. And I'm sorry I had to tell you this so abruptly, but Hatake probably would have had less tact. Good-bye."

The door clicked shut behind her and I sat quietly for a minute, staring into the distance. I wasn't sure how long I sat there, but at one point someone came in and took away the tea tray and placed several books on the bed.

I opened them and read, but halfway through the first one, I couldn't take it anymore. The books were full of lies.

There were so many conflicting ideas in my head that I felt like I was going to explode. Maybe this was a test to see how far I would trust New Master. Or maybe it wasn't a test and it was all for real and I was going to be freed.

The books were lying. Surely, they were lying. Slavery was _not_ illegal. It was _not _a violation of rights. It was my destiny to be a slave and it was my destiny to follow orders. That was what I had been born to do, raised to do, and had been doing all of my life.

Was my life a sham? Built on lies and misplaced trust? No, no, no! I hated Old Master for giving me away, but I still loved him. But now, New Master... oh Kami, he was trying to free me! Me, free? I didn't deserve that. I would not do it. Or... I will try not to. I had to try my best. Had to.

Being free was wrong.

Disobeying your master was wrong.

If a master were to free you, it was a bad thing. It was frowned upon. A free slave was a bad slave, a slave who did not understand what it was to serve and protect. A free slave was no longer important or needed or desired.

Did nobody need me now? Was I an obsolete creature?

My thoughts continued to whirl downwards and as they did, I began to feel unfamiliar pangs in my chest. This... this was emotion. And the stinging in my eyes were tears...

I took a deep breath and held it. I would not cry.

I blacked out two minutes later, the book still open on my lap.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I stared out at the moon, my legs still dangling through the railing of the balcony. I pulled myself away and walked towards my pile of paper as I remembered the days that followed. People had come in, but I had not looked at them. They placed food on the table next to the bed and ordered me to eat. Once a day I was taken out of the room and into a bathroom to bathe and generally make use of the facilities. Never had I once lifted my head during those outings, nor had I made a sound.

I had still been reading those hellish books and my mind has been constantly whirling, trying devilishly to compute all that was being offered. At times, I was unable to take the thoughts and had to force myself to lose consciousness.

The fact that I was alone most of the time did not bothered me. I was used to less human contact than that once-a-day routine.

I lay on my stomach next to the papers and pulled out a sheet of paper. I began to write slowly. The years before my disowning were not important to me anymore. The past five years had been the most important to me. And I was going to catalogue them as best I could.

I lost myself in my memories once more, allowing the pen to write down my life in its harsh ink. I put the tip to my mouth and tasted the ink.

It tasted worse than blood did. More inky… as was expected.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Several days passed in this routine before I saw New Master again.

I was sitting quietly (as I always was) leafing absently through one of the books on slavery when he came in. I noticed someone came in and recognized his scent immediately. I did not look at him and continued to stare at the wall ahead of me; my hand moving of its own accord.

"Yo," he said, addressing me directly.

I looked at New Master and half-bowed to him, bending at the waist. I was in the bed and still in the same clothes I had been wearing when I had first seen him in this very room. No clothing had been presented to me to change into - not that I had minded. My garments were still relatively clean.

"Hello. How may I be of service, New—Kakashi-sama?" I stumbled slightly on his name. I have finally decided to call him Kakashi to his face and New Master in my mind. This way, it was only slightly degrading and not against his orders. At least, on a technicality it wasn't.

He ignored my question. "Have you read the books?"

"Yes, Kakashi-sama."

"Did you read _all_ of the books?"

"Yes, Kakashi-sama."

His face, er, eye twitched. "Are you _sure_?"

"Yes Kakashi-sama."

"That's a lot of books to read." He glanced at the one lying on my lap. "You didn't seem too interested in that one when I came in. Have you read it?" He picked it up and leafed through it while leaning against the wall. He was like a jaguar, lean and muscular, yet loose and seemingly lazy.

"Yes, Kakashi-sama."

"Is that all you can say?"

"No, Kakashi-sama."

He flipped through the pages and his one visible eye scanned the pages quickly. "What does Egoi-sama say on slavery throughout the ages?"

"Egoi-sama says slavery has changed in both a sociological and economical way. Economy-wise, slaves were useful and good for people not wishing to spend money on a servant. However, due to society's views, the use of slaves has dropped and—"

"That's enough," his voice broke through my answer. "Call me, Kakashi, will you? Or Kakashi-kun if you have to add something." He paused. "Hokage-sama says you need friends. And clothes. There's a bag outside with some clothes for you from some of the chuunin that she borrowed. You can buy some more when you're better assimilated. Here, I'll go get it."

He disappeared and reappeared with a large green bag made of plastic. "Yeah, it's a garbage bag," he explained. "But the stuff inside is fine," he continued. "I checked." He dumped the bag on the floor and glanced at me.

"Hokage-sama wants you to have scheduled visits from other females. She thinks you should meet with Ino first. It'll only be a short visit. I still don't know what story Hokage's made up for you being here though. She's been busy."

He glanced at me and noticed that I hadn't moved an inch during the entire time he had been speaking. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Kakashi-sama."

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Orders," I answered, slightly surprised.

"Oh, well, just change. And get ready quick, I think Ino is coming in about five minutes. I was supposed to tell you all this earlier, but a large dog got stuck in a tree and I had to save it."

"Yes, Kakashi-sama."

He passed the bag to me and I pulled out the first two items I saw and started to pull off my shirt.

"Hey, hold on," drawled New Master. "Are you going to be comfortable in a skirt and a pair of pants?"

I blinked and realized that in my hurry, I had indeed pulled out a skirt and a pair of pants. New Master put the skirt back into the bag and pulled out a light green top. "Here, wear this instead." There was a knock at the door. "Shit, Hokage and Ino are early."

He disappeared again and I changed quickly. I folded my overly large shirt and pants and placed them next to the bag of clothing. I made the bed as fast as I could, not paying attention to detail and was just sitting down when there was a knock at the door.

"You okay in there?" asked New Master. "Can we come in?"

"Yes, Kakashi-kun," I said, slightly startled. I still wasn't used to this equality thing. I never thought I'd ever be able to accept the fact that I was apparently on equal footing with everyone else. But I was prepared to try, as long as I could remain with New Master. It was his desire for me to be free, and I would try hard to become free, no matter how horrible a fate I was going to have to face when it came.

New Master and a girl with blonde hair pulled into a ponytail stepped into the room. "Ah, Ino, this is uh… Kasume." New Master looked at me. "Kasume, this is Ino. Have fun." He disappeared, leaving the blonde female alone in the room with me.

"Well, that was rude," stated Ino. She looked at me, her eyes piercingly sharp. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

I wondered if I was to talk to her. I also wondered if the room was bugged.

_**Equality.**_

"No, Ino."

"Well, don't think you can go after Sasuke-kun, then," she hissed.

"Sasuke?"

She blinked at me, batting her long blond lashes. "Uchiha Sasuke! He's mine. Haven't you seen him around?"

"I have not seen anyone excluding yourself, Hokage-sama, and Kakashi-kun since I have come here."

"Really? Why not?" She asked as she sat down on the bed, staring at her fingernails. They were painted light pink.

"Yes, really, Ino. And I have not seen anyone else for I have not been taken outside."

"Why not?"

"I do not know."

"How'd you get here?" She looks at me now and suddenly I wish she were looking at her nails again. Her eyes glitter and I am reminded of several gossiping women I once had to shadow.

"I do not remember."

"You don't remember?" she asked. She seemed to want verification on all that I said.

"No, I do not."

She smiled and tilted her head in my direction. "I bet you were sick," she said in a quiet tone. "Really sick. That's why Hokage-sama was called in. She's the best medic-nin ever. I bet you were really contagious too so she had to keep you here with Kakashi-san."

She looked at me, smiling still. "What was your last memory before showing up here?"

"I fainted."

She looks shocked. "See! You were sick! You were so sick that you fainted! And I bet Hokage-sama showed up at your village and took you away here to get medical help! Oh that's so exciting. But why would she bring you to Kakashi-san's apartment? No offence, but this place is a bachelor pad, a messy one at that. It's not good to have a girl in a guy's apartment, no matter one. This apartment building is full of unwed men, you know."

"I did not know that."

"Well, now you do." She smiles. "You're really uptight, aren't you? You should calm down, I'm not going to bite you."

"I did not think that you would bite me, nor am I uptight. I am perfectly relaxed."

"Sure you are. That's why you look like you're ready to jump at a moment's notice, right?"

I have always been able to jump at a moment's notice. My life requires me to do so. Or rather, it used to require me to do so. "Yes, Ino."

She laughed. "You're hilarious. Forehead-girl would get a kick out of you."

"Forehead-girl? I am not familiar with her."

"Of course not; you haven't met her yet." She glanced around the room, taking in the books on slavery and the large bag of clothing on the floor. "Slavery?" she asked. "Why would you read about this?" She picked up a book, leafed through it and dropped it to the floor. "Boring!"

"Hokage-sama wished for me to read it."

"Right." Her eyes were on my top now. "Hey, isn't that Forehead-girl's?"

"I would not know, I am not—"

"Familiar with her, right. But I swear, that's her top." She swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked at me over her shoulder. "So how do you know Kakashi? Is he your cousin or something?"

"No, he is not my cousin."

"Brother? I didn't know he had siblings."

"Kakashi-kun is not my sibling."

"Friend?"

"Kakashi-kun is not my friend."

"Uh, is he your dad, or something?"

"No, Kakashi-kun is not my father."

"Ew, he's not your fiancé or something, is he? I mean, he's old!"

"No, Kakashi-kun is not my fiancé."

Ino blinked. "Then what is he? Your long-lost twin brother?" She asked with a laugh.

"No, I have no knowledge of siblings."

She looked at me with confusion evident in her eyes. "Then," but she didn't finish her sentence because New Master chose that moment to enter the room.

"Ah, Ino, I hope you had fun conversing with Kasume, my—"

"Your what, Kakashi-san?"

"My wife," he answered with a smile.

I stared at him blankly. Had he just said "wife"? Surely not.

"She's your wife? You're married? Does anyone else know? How come nobody told me?" As she questioned him, Ino stalked closer and closer to New Master, her eyes narrowing all the while. "Does Forehead-girl know about this?"

New Master rubbed the back of his head with a hand. "Well, Hokage-sama and you know."

Her eyes opened wider than they had the entire time we had been conversing. "Why on earth did you marry her? She's my age, isn't she?"

"Ah, well, I decided to settle down. Oh, look, Hokage-sama wants to talk to you!"

He put a hand behind her back and shoved her out of the room.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

That had been the first time he ever called me his wife. It was the first step to our sham marriage.

_He had stood there for a while, his back facing me, his head resting on the door. It wasn't until we heard an ominous slamming of another door that he had turned to me, his expression as unreadable as it always had been._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

He looked at me and I looked at him. I spoke first. Perhaps I shouldn't have. I was becoming much too bold.

"Wife?" I asked.

"You said everything wrong."

I stared at him. Everything wrong? But I had never done anything wrong in my life! I was, I was perfect! I was what kept Old Master safe; I never made mistakes.

"You shot down everything," he continued, his voice emotionless. My new master was hard to read and being unable to categorize his mannerisms was bothering me. "Aren't you going to say something?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Is that all you can say? What if I tried to hit you?" he asked, stepping closer. "Would you stop me?"

"If you wanted me to."

"I," he stopped speaking and looked at the door as Hokage-sama stepped in.

"What's this I hear about a marriage?" she asked. I knew she was asking only to be polite. They had both been listening in on my pre-arranged conversation, I was sure of it. That was why New Master had entered when he had.

"I can't believe you answered everything she asked you," spat New Master. "Couldn't you have lied or something? Or changed the subject?"

"I was not instructed to lie or to evade any topic. I apologize for not knowing—"

"Kakashi," interrupted Hokage-sama. "You can't blame this on her. You should have explained everything to her long before Ino came over. Handing her clothes and telling her that she's to have a visitor five minutes ahead of time was not a good idea."

"It is not Kakashi-kun's fault, Hokage-sama," I said, speaking up for my new master, since he didn't seem to be doing so. New Master's reputation was being tarnished and I had to hold it up. "He rescued a large dog from a tree and that is why he was late."

There was a brief silence before Hokage-sama let out a sigh. "You believe everything he says, don't you?"

"A master's word is law. If he were to speak an untruth it would be in everyone's best interest to believe him unless instructed otherwise."

"Right," said Hokage-sama, crossing her arms under her large bosom. "So, Hatake, you need a new house."

"What?" he asked. "A new house? What's wrong with my apartment?"

"You live in a bachelor pad, Hatake. You cannot keep her here much longer. It will make people talk."

"Didn't you tell the chit to keep her mouth shut?"

"If I did that, then she'd be even more likely to tell everyone. There's nothing we can do but pretend that the two of you are married." She looked at me. "She belongs to you now, and you have to do what's in her best interest. She cannot stay here and live productively."

"I didn't want to own her."

"I know. So, I'll get a new house set up for you and everyone will find out that you're married. Er, you did not move right away because she was ill and unable to move into the new house. And you didn't tell anyone because you two fell madly in love and didn't want the age factor to get in the way, so you kept her as a secret fiancé for a while, planning on getting married to her sometime in the future, but she fell ill and you two decided to get married right away just because it was romantic and she's… very romantic. I don't know. But there, use that as your explanation if anyone asks. All right?"

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I wrote the words carefully on the paper, filling both sides with my neat and even print. Some of the things I was going to write had happened when I was not there. But New, Kakashi-kun, had told me about some of the conversations he had had when I was not around.

I continued to write.

_In a few days, we had been moved from Kakashi's old apartment into a brand new house, semi-furnished house. Only a few of the rooms were filled with furniture. The living room, dining room, the kitchen, and one bedroom had been furnished. _

_One bedroom, with one bed. A large, canopied bed. With curtains. _

_Oh, and there was a really big walk-in closet with more outfits than I had every seen in my life._

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"There is only one bed."

"Is that a problem?" he asked.

"If you want it to be."

"No."

"Then it is not."

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Hokage-sama and Kakashi-kun sat in the living room each gripping a cup of tea in the hands and wishing it were something else.

"So," began the Hokage. "Ino was a small mistake." She took a sip of her tea.

"Small? I'm married."

"Er, yes, well, at least you aren't… well, it could be worse."

"How?"

"Well, it could be! But listen, we have to keep getting her to talk. You saw her up there, she was actually asking questions. That is very good."

"It's been a week since the Ino incident."

"Kakashi, I cannot spare you any more time. I have a city to run."

"I know, Hokage. I just wish you'd let me give her away."

"Hatake, you know I can't do that. She would be a very valuable asset to the city if she realizes that she is no longer a slave."

"Why not just keep her a slave and get her to do all the work anyway?"

"Kakashi!" The Hokage looked at him in disbelief. "You know I cannot condone such behaviour!"

"I apologize. I was just… I'm just tired."

"Have you been feeding her?"

"Three square meals a day."

"Taking her to the bathroom?"

"Once a day."

"Talking to her?"

"What about?"

"Anything?"

"No."

"Kakashi!" exclaimed the Hokage. "You have to talk to her. She needs human contact."

"She was fine without it before."

"Now it is going to be different. Please, stop being difficult."

"Fine, I apologize. I'll talk to her. Who did you want to talk to her first, though?"

"A girl. A chuunin, I think."

"Who?"

"Well, Hyuuga Hinata?"

"Too quiet. They'd quiet each other to death."

"Then, that Ten-Ten girl."

"Close friend of Ino."

"What about Sakura? There, it makes sense. She, Kasume, did you call her?"

"Yes, Kasume."

"Well, she's going to be working with Sakura and your new chuunin anyway."

"What?"

"Kasume is good. Very good. The chuunin can learn much from her."

"Right. I'll have Sakura come in soon."

"Good. Well, I have to go now," said the Hokage, putting down her cup. "Good-bye."

"Good-bye Tsunade-sama."

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I was sitting quietly in the kitchen, on a stool, when I heard New Master call my name.

Several days ago he had come into the bedroom and announced that I was to explore the house and learn where everything was. I was allowed to go anywhere in the house or in the garden. For the past couple of days, I had been going to the kitchen to go out into the garden. I wouldn't do anything out there, just sit and breathe and wait for my instructions. The only instruction I got were to come eat or to go to the bathroom.

Was it any surprise that I ran all the way into the living room?

New Master was not alone in the living room. He was sitting in an armchair, reading a small orange book which I had noticed many times before. He had it on his person almost all the time.

There was a girl with pink hair standing with her back to me in the living room. She was looking at the vaulted ceiling and the chandelier that hung from the very center. "This is a big step up from your apartment, Kaka-sensei!" she said, turning to face him.

"Mm," he said, turning a page. Without moving his eyes from the page in front of him, he waved his arm in my direction and said, "Ah, Kasume, meet Sakura-chan, one of my many students." He flipped to another page and continued the introduction. "Sakura-chan, this is my wife, Kasume."

"Oh, so Ino was telling the truth!" exclaimed the pink-haired girl. "You didn't tell us!" She shouted, pointing her finger at New Master. "You went and got married without anyone!"

"Well, I got married with my wife. Here I was thinking that you could have a simple ceremony without a million mouths to feed in the way."

"You lazy bastard! It was your wedding! You're so cheap, Kaka-sensei!"

"Aren't you going to greet my wife? She's waiting very patiently."

"Oh," said Sakura, her face coloring slightly as she turned to look at me. She stuck her hand out at me. "It's nice to meet you. I can't believe you married _him_!"

I looked at her hand in confusion. "It is nice to meet you as well. And, I am married to him. Why are you offering me you hand?"

"She wants to shake your hand," answered New Master from the armchair. "It's a custom here."

"Oh," I said. "I apologize for not knowing your custom and inadvertently embarrassing you." I put my hand in hers and she moved it up and down before releasing my hand.

"No problem at all," she said, smiling slightly. "You're not from around here, are you? No wonder he got you to marry him. If you lived here, you would probably wouldn't have married him."

"Whyever not?"

"The stories. Plus, he's a real lazy bastard. Always late to everything."

"Real lazy bastard sitting right here. Also note that this real lazy bastard is your teacher and in charge of your training."

"Did I say real lazy bastard?" asked Sakura. "I meant to say, wonderful, charming man."

"That's more like it," interjected New Master again.

"You change your mind quickly," I said. "Is Kakashi-kun really as bad as you say?"

"What?" she asked, "Oh no, not at all. He's an okay guy I guess."

She sat down on a couch and I sat down across from her. "So, how old are you?" she asked. "Ino said you were our age, but I thought maybe you were using a youth enhancing jutsu like Tsunade-sama."

"I have seen sixteen summers this year."

"Er… sixteen summers? Oh, years." Her expression changed to one of horror and she looked to New Master. "You married someone **my **age? Ew! Kaka-sensei! How could you?"

"She's very mature for her age, Sakura-chan. Her customs are much more complex than ours. Age doesn't matter to her or to me."

"Oh, Kaka-sensei, are you saying you're in love?"

"Do people who are in love get married?"

"Yes."

"Then?"

"Oh! Kaka-sensei! This is so exciting. I can't believe you didn't tell us! How could you keep a secret like this from your team? I mean, I can understand why you wouldn't tell the new members, but what about Team 7? Huh?"

"Look, Sakura, you're already worked up about it now, and she's already sixteen. If you really want to know, we were engaged for a year and dated for a year before that, so I really started seeing her when she was fourteen."

"Ew!"

"See? If that's your reaction, what would everyone else think?" Kakashi stood up. "Kasume's was ill for a while before we came here. The journey was hard and she's still recovering. It would be best if you would leave now and let her rest some more."

"Oh, right. Well, it was nice meeting you, Kasume-chan! I'm sure we can become great friends!"

"Friends?"

"Oh yeah! I mean, it must be lonely being here in a new city and everything and not knowing anyone."

"She knows me," interjected New Master.

"And we all know how messed up your company is."

"Don't you have a meeting with Naruto and Sasuke?"

"Oh, yeah! Can I tell them about this?"

"You better. Kasume-chan's coming to training tomorrow."

"Wow! That's awesome! Are you a ninja too?"

"Partial," I replied. Part ninja, part seductress, part assassin, that was how I had always been introduced.

"Cool! Well, good-bye, Kasume-chan!" She yelled, pulling me in for a hug. As she wrapped her arms around me, my eyes fell on New Master, but he wasn't paying attention, so I relaxed in the embrace, hugging the vivacious girl back.

"Good-bye, Sakura-chan," I said as she walked to the door, New Master following her. She waved over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

"Time for bed," said New Master as he locked the door.

I made my way up the stairs and changed into a large tee-shirt. Kakashi had entered the room at some time during my changing and he was already undressed, clad only in his boxers and his ever present blue/black mask.

We both got into bed and he pulled all the curtains shut around us, encasing us in gloom. With the flick of a finger, he turned the lights out and the light that had been creeping in through a crack in the curtains disappeared.

I laid down under the covers and he laid down next to me.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"If you want me to be," I answered. Ever since he told me to explore the house, he had been staging small conversations with me. He'd ask me how I was and talk about the weather and ask if I had done anything noteworthy during the day. I never did.

"Is that you answer to everything?"

"If you want it to be."

He sighed. "Tell me about yourself…. You're a very good ninja."

"If you wish to call me that."

There was a small pause and I realized that I may have aggravated him somehow. "I apologize. I have never once had the ability to speak so freely with anyone, especially not masters."

"Kakashi."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not a master: I'm Hatake Kakashi. Kakashi."

"Ah, I… Gomen nasai, Kakashi-kun."

"Tell me about your life."

"What about it?"

"Anything."

"That is a broad topic."

"I know."

"Uh…" I didn't know where to start. The darkness was startling in its simplicity. The conversation has lasted much longer than the ones before and I am feeling rather nervous. I hate emotions. Where is my shell? Where is my void? I hate this rapid humanization of myself. The books I read called it that… 'humanization.' As if I were not human already. It is more like, 'emotionalization.' Or elimination of my urges to do what my master wants. The destruction of my obedience.

"Who was your mother?" he asked.

"I did not know my mother." She had given me up at the age of three days.

"What did you know of her? Nothing?"

"No. I knew she was of the Leaf Village. From this village, I do believe."

"I see."

"Um… Oldest Master was from the Sand Village. Old Master was of the Rose Village. And, due to my past, Old Master gave me the alias of Desert Rose to use when I was assassinating."

"I hear you're good at assassination."

"Old Master used to say so."

"You would do anything for your master?"

"Of course." What a silly question.

"You would do anything if I told you to do it?"

"Anything."

"Anything?"

"Yes, Kakashi-kun, anything. No matter how many times you ask, I will say yes."

"Would you kill yourself?"

"Yes."

There was a moment of silence before he rolled over under the covers and faced away from me. "Go to sleep," he said. "You're helping me train the chuunin tomorrow."

I held my breath until I feel unconscious, anxious to do his bidding.

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_Training. God. _

I stop writing and flex my wrist a bit.

Training was where I met Sakura again, and her two friends, Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke. Originally they were the only ones in the team, but something happened and they were forced to take on two new team-mates. One, who was a year older, and one who was from a different village all together.

I shut my eyes and lie on my back, my right arm thrown over my eyes. Hyuuga Neji, someone I had never heard of before, with large, white, pupil-less eyes. And Subaku No Gaara, someone who I had wished I would never meet again.

Memories wash over me once more, and I turn over, determined to write down the journey of my life.

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**Reviews**

**DreamAnimeKitten: **I'm glad you're enjoying the story, even if it is only because Kakashi's in it.

**KetsuekiSohma: **I'm betting that she really hates being in her position as well. Poor chick, being disowned. How horribly upsetting. Ah, but if she had slapped him, she wouldn't have been in character. Glad you think this is awesome.

**thexpariah: **Er… was it half a year? I wouldn't know. I apologize if you were very sad.

**Malitia: **Everyone feels sorry for Pet, or Kasume as she is now known. Kakashi as a master is super hot. At least, it would be if he would just stop being a chicken and act like one. What a lazy man.

**KaibasShadowGirl: **I'm glad you like this fanfic. I'm glad you figured out the names and such. Yay! Gaara! He's hot! I mean, young, and pre-pubescent, and not to mention psychotic and a serial killer. (But hot nonetheless!) (I am a sick, sick, repressed fangirl.)

**xkuroxshinobix: **I did take a damned long time to update.

**Chrissie-chan: **Yay! My summary is good! That's awesome to hear. (I like good OCs. Bad OCs are creepy. And Mary Sue-ish. And oh my god, Kasume is not a Mary Sue! I won't let her! Just let her develop a bit. Yeah… )

**m: **I was hoping it made sense.

**Fade-sempai: **And now, many more things will fall into place. Or just fall. Like jaws. And potatoes.

**XoXSilverDragonXoX: **Yay! It's you. I love A Girl Named Yama. It's lovely! Yep, Kakashi has good hands. Awesome hands. If only he would touch her…

**xl-twisted-lx: **What took me so long? Er, well… depression, school, friends, lack of motivation, my muse (Pepsi B'Dobb) going on vacation, lack of internet… shall I go on?

**A Random Person: **If only I could have a real Kakashi plushie… I love capturing emotions. It's my hobby. You should see all the emotions I've caught. I've got sadness, and angst, and anger! But that's only because I was following these swarmy-pants losers who were being sadly angry and angsty. (Disregard my silliness.)

**Yuki Mitsuten: **Best way to make an author love you: admit you haven't read the story. LoL. Glad you liked the summary. I'm glad you thought it was truly amazing. Y'all are doing wonders for my ego.

**ally: **Yay! You found my story once more. That's lovely. Ah, and now you know how she ends up as his wife. By accident. And fraud. And the scariness which is Ino.

**audee:** Glad you think this is great.

**UPDATE: **Your wish had been granted.

**sasukefreak:** Yeah, well, no one really likes the idea of slaves. Except slave owners, I guess. And it is sad about her thinking she should serve other people.

**chrln2004: **Quite sad indeed.

**crazed fangirl: **I'm not updating because… I didn't want to. Check out the response to **xl-twisted-lx** for details.

**Sutefani-chan: **Very mature fic, what with all the mature-ness going on. Of course I'm going to continue! I am upset that you would think that I would start a fic and even think about not finishing it! I plan to finish all my fics! Just… not now.

**Trinity: ** Let me start off with… **"WOW! I LOVE YOU AND YOUR REVIEW."** Yay, Pet got her name! Let us all rejoice. The Rose Country belongs to me! I am it's soul creator and er… well, creator.

If only everyone wrote super duper long reviews like you. I'd be super duper happy.

**kimpster: **Thanks for the compliment.

**kawaii-kitsune22: **This is as fast as I can go. Super duper slow mode. But hey, at least I'm updating.

_And so ends this session of review responses. _

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Tune in next time for Gaara, training, a blast into Kasume's past in Rose Country, and a test to end all tests!


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